Out of the wall of Atlantic sea fog rolling into the Cornish village of Newlyn, a vast container ship looms.
Its maroon hull is barely visible in the distance and any smaller vessels around disappear into thick grey blanket hanging above the waves. For tourists, this grim apparition may be the sign to retreat inside to escape the dreary day.
But in years gone by, such a day would traditionally have been favoured by the county's infamous smugglers who sailed past customs ships with crates of tea and rum to reach Cornwall's white shores.
Of course, the approach is perilous. Fingers of rock protrude from the shore, barely visible beneath the surface but deadly to strike. Even for a seasoned sailor, local knowledge is almost always essential.
The tales of 18th and 19th century smugglers in Cornwall has long since passed into local legend. Yet once again, rumours of brazen smugglers has started to bubble up in the old coastal taverns that pepper the cliffs.
