Three working men on a pier watch a large wooden column suspended by chains from a crane over choppy water, with an industrial skyline in the background.

I came across a crew of men installing a new support column on the dock. They had all the relevant equipment: chains, pulleys, cranes, cables, and of course, the wooden support column, which was huge, swaying above the waves on a long wire cable. Everything else on this scene was huge, too, including the crewmen: very strong, thoughtful, quiet men, who paid no attention to me. They weren't interested in talking, and when they did speak, it was in one-syllable words: "Let go," "Hold tight," and so on. Still, by keenly observing the strange movements of a crewman working on a dockside ladder, I realized that despite their skill and physical power, the crew members were struggling with a major challenge. I don't know what it was. These huge men stayed quiet about it. At first, I thought they were bewildered, but then I figured out that they were apathetic, exhausted, and sick of the job. The crewman closest to me, remaining silent but folding his big arms, made it clear that he didn't care if the column dangled in midair till doomsday. To be fair, I observed them for over an hour, and they did patiently keep trying to solve the mysterious issue—until their efforts slowed and eventually stopped. One by one, the huge crewmen left their places and leaned on the pier's metal railing, staring meditatively at the water. None of them said anything or described what they were seeing. But one guy spat and, watching intently, tracked his brown wad of chewing tobacco as it sank into the Mehr sehen