Staring into the pitch-black evening, a navy captain noticed a blinking gentle immediately forward on a lethal collision course along with his ship.
He instantly signaled: “Change your course ten levels east.”
The sunshine flashed again: “Change yours ten levels west.”
Livid on the defiance, the captain signaled once more: “I’m a navy captain! Change your course, sir!”
“I’m a seaman, second class,” got here the reply. “You modify your course, sir.”
Brimming with rage, the captain despatched a ultimate, terrifying risk: “I’m a closely armored battleship! I don’t alter my course for something!”
The sunshine blinked again one final time:
“Effectively, I’m a lighthouse. It’s your name.”
