The dockers invited us to join them for lunch. Old pictures of the docks and ship coats of arms, which were traditionally given when a ship reached the harbour for the first time, decorated the walls. The dockers spoke of generations of labourers who made their living off the docks, the oil and gas industries, shipping containers and nearly forgotten names of workers with blue overalls and black fingers. Nobody could predict the future. There is only the past and the present.