WITH more than 90 per cent of the world's goods transported by sea, a port of Plymouth's size is a frequently used stop-off on the delivery route into Europe.
But how much do we know about these "invisible" visitors to our city?
PATRICK DALY popped-in to see the Apostleship of the Sea, a charity which works directly with seafarers, to find out more.
SITUATED in a small two-room office in Victoria Wharf with no computer and no wifi, it seems hard to believe this is the base from which "the hand of friendship" is extended to thousands of incoming sailors every year.
But stocked with everything from shaving cream to emergency clothing, volunteers from this upstairs cubby hole visit as many as 10 ships a week.
Volunteers from the Apostleship of the Sea (AoS), a global organisation tied to the Catholic church, keep track of ships docking into Plymouth - from small fishing trawlers to heavyweight cargo carriers - and pay a visit to the crew on board.
Some of the sailors come from as far as West Africa, the Baltic and South East Asia, spending eight to 10 months a year away from their families.
Jayne O'Connor, a former Royal Navy Lieutenant Commander and a ship visitor of 12 years, said that many arrive in the city unprepared for northern Europe's harsher climes.
"They arrive with just a pair of flip-flops," explained the 67-year-old.
"They ask us if we have any clothes. They come from warm climates but of course it is much colder here. Their next stop might be somewhere in Sweden," she continued.
"They bring a bag up to the office and take what they need. We have shoes, clothes and jackets which have been donated.
"Sometimes they pick things up and I say, 'Would your wife like that?' and they say, 'Oh could I?'
"We offer a hand of friendship and anything else we can offer."
The way African and Asian seafarers are treated is a particular concern for the charity, which has had a base in Plymouth since 2005.
"These fishermen have gone to an agent in their own country and they get sent over here with a contract that says they will work 18 hours a day and paid 'x' amount," said the Stoke resident.
"We have heard of them being left waiting at the airport. When they do get picked up and taken to their fishing fleet, their passports have been known to be taken from them.
"We have become most concerned with the fishing boats over the last few years. They have relatively small crews of about six men.
"What happens is, they follow the fish around. If the shoals of fish are about for 24 hours, then they fish for that whole time because that is what fishing is about."
Mrs O'Connor explained that while some fisherman negotiate being paid a percentage of the final catch, Ghanaians and Filipinos are often tied into fixed earnings which they agreed to when signing up in their home country.
Along with the smaller fishing boats in Sutton Harbour, 'coaster' cargo vessels carrying fertiliser, clay, salt and wood chips are common to Victoria Wharf, while large oil tankers and fishing trawlers come into the industrial Cattedown Wharf.
No matter how small the boat, AoS volunteers try and pay a visit to the crew.
A non-proselytising charity, the visitors go armed with mobile phone top-up cards, newspapers in the crew's native languages and information about the city. They also hand out prayer books, Bibles and Mass times to those who want them.
Mrs O'Connor explained that once the captain has given the all-clear for her to climb on board, she heads straight for the mess deck to mingle amongst the workers.
"I can be in and out in a flash. Shipping these days does not have much time," explained the mother of three.
"Time is money. They load or unload and get off again. They do not have time for the niceties in life and a chin wag.
"That is why I hone in on the mess deck as that is where the most people will be.
"We come in with mobile phone top-up and if they can pay, then that is great. If they can't, that is not a worry. Most of them do offer to pay.
She continued: "I went onto a tanker once and a chap kept playing with his watch.
"He said he couldn't get it to work and asked if I was going into town. I took him down to get his watch fixed and left him with a map as he said he wanted to stay and look around town. We help in whatever way we can."
The charity's work is supported by Catholics in the city, through donations of time and money, with gift sets given at Christmas and chocolate eggs at Easter.
"I get so much help from the people of Plymouth," added Mrs O'Connor, who also works two afternoons a week for Plymouth Community Healthcare.
"I often put a thank you in the Plymouth Cathedral newsletter for the help we get towards the top-up cards and all the other help.
"There is a group of ladies that come along and knit a lot of woollen hats for us. All the clothing we receive has to be new or nearly new."
The charity visited 500 ships across the South West ports of Teignmouth, Brixham and Plymouth last year.
The AoS in Plymouth currently has two ship visitors in training who will back up the work carried out by Mrs O'Connor and the South West lay chaplain, Ann Donnelly.
"IF WE HAD A CHRISTIAN AND MUSLIM CREW, WE'D HAVE TO CALM THEM DOWN EVERY DAY"
I HAD heard the horror stories.
Jayne O'Connor, a longstanding Plymouth Apostleship of the Sea (AoS) volunteer, had briefed me about the gruelling hours, poor conditions and rouge Captains which are still all too prevalent on today's seas and oceans.
So when a diesel tanker finally agreed to let myself and a Herald photographer on board, I didn't quite know what to expect.
After being fitted with hard hats and having our mobile phones confiscated by the inspection staff at Cattedown Wharf, we followed hot on the heels of Jayne and trainee ship visitor Liam O'Hara, a former Chief Petty Officer in the Navy.
The MT Ganges Star tanker, docking in Plymouth for the first time, struck an imposing sight as it stood against the dock.
Having come from Rotterdam in the Netherlands loaded with 10,700 tonnes of diesel, four Filipino deck workers were busy discharging the fuel, a process that would take 20 hours.
While we checked-in, the crew cleaned and swept and tightened valves as the bright orange fuel pipes hummed and pumped away.
On the lower mess deck, German captain Marko Miessner and his two female cadets were getting ready to eat lunch.
The other 16 crew members were all from the Philippines, including the two chefs.
Captain Miessner explained that having crew made up of the same nationality and religion made life more harmonious, especially when it came to avoiding arguments.
"Usually the Filipino crew spend six months on board, whereas someone from Europe gets a two or three month contract," he said.
"Filipinos speak English well and for a European company which is Catholic or Christian, it makes it easier to have them all the same religion.
"It could be a big mess to have Christians and Muslims and Buddhists together. You would have to calm them down every day."
And everyone liking the same food also cuts down on the workload, said one of the chefs.
He explained how their German boss, when not filling out countless hours of paperwork, enjoyed spicy food so was happy to eat the same native meals as the crew.
With the tanker in seemingly immaculate condition and plenty of entertainment on board in the form of a satellite television, internet (albeit with a slow connection), board games and a darts set, I did wonder whether the crew valued ship visitors much.
But the skipper said his crew were always happy to have Aos visitors, especially in places where the city was not immediately accessible.
"The charity bring some newspapers for free and sometimes they offer phone cards," he explained.
"They also offer free transport into the city which is what the crew want.
"It looks pretty easy to get to the city here in Plymouth but in other places there's nothing.
"You can be in an industrial area and the visitors bring you to the Seaman's Mission so you can buy simple things like sweets or food."
Once Jayne and Liam had finished their meeting and greeting and handing out freebies, we departed, leaving the crew to eat with their next day's destination still unknown.