Pula and Gothenburg, Bonded Across the Sea

Some cities have history that hangs over them like a scar. Some, such as Pula and Gothenburg, wear it like an old tattoo — inky, indelible, unchosen — consolidated into the tissue of their being, determining future not on their own terms. A Sprend customer recently saw Uljanik Crane at the Sprend website, and confused them with the ones in Gothenburg. It was an eye-opening moment that reminded us that beneath it, there runs something larger than itself — a bond that runs deeper than iron and shipbuilding contracts.

Legacy of Uljanik: A Shipyard That Built More Than Ships

Pula wasn’t always a shipbuilding city. Before Uljanik arrived in 1856 it was a sleepy coastal village and its biggest news might have been a particularly good catch at the fish market. Then the Austro-Hungarian Empire wanted to transform it into a mighty naval power, and Pula started to change. For over a century, Uljanik was not only shipbuilding — it was the creation of careers, communities and a lifestyle. It put Pula on the world map. The shipyard plowed through wars, political turmoil and economic storms, but no amount of welding and rivet-driving could stave off the inevitable. The shipyard closed its gates for good in 2019. Pula was left standing in the shadows of cranes that no longer moved, an artifact of a vanishing industry that had defined generations.

Instead of knocking them down, the city lit them up — turning the urban giants of industry into a night-time spectacle, as if to say: We’re still here. We remember.

But there’s more to Pula than shipyards and nostalgia. It also happens to be home to one of the most beautiful Roman amphitheaters in the world — an architectural heavyweight that has somehow weathered emperors, dictators and enthusiastic rock concerts. Now, it hosts everything from film festivals to metal bands; if history has to linger, it may as well have a good soundtrack.

Ship–Shape Saga: The Rise, Fall and Espresso Revolution of This Swedish City

Just across the Baltic Sea, Gothenburg followed a similar blueprint. In the early 20th century, its shipyards — Götaverken, Eriksberg and others — cranked out ships that plied every ocean on the planet. The docks vibrated with life, whole families earned their living inside the shipyard walls, and if you asked anyone in those days what Gothenburg did best, the answer would have been plain: We build ships. But as the decades wore on, the industry that had molded Gothenburg began to unravel.

The 1980s came and, instead of workers finding jobs at the docks, there were questions: What now? Some shipyards lasted longer than others, but the answer was no longer in steel and shipbuilding. So Gothenburg started to reinvent itself. The old shipyards are converted into trendy waterfront apartments, cultural hot spots and coffee shops where people take about the nuances of oat milk.

The Eriksberg crane remains, standing over a town no longer in need of it, but not ready for the town to relinquish it, either. In any case, Gothenburg also happens to be home to Liseberg, Scandinavia’s largest amusement park — and if you’re going to take an industry built on raw power and engineering and replace it with something else, you might as well replace it with roller coasters.

Cities That Won’t Be Defined by the Past

Pula and Gothenburg may have begun as shipbuilding cities, but their futures are unwritten. Gothenburg has already been rewriting its story, transforming its wharves into playgrounds for the modern age. Pula is waiting to see what comes next. The cranes of Uljanik are both a monument to history and a silent test of the future. Reinvention is not easy, and nostalgia doesn’t pay the bills — but both cities recognize that there’s no such thing as standing still.

A Shared Vision

That instant when someone confused Uljanik’s cranes for Gothenburg’s was not merely an amusing mistake; it was a preview of how industrial legacies extend across borders. The shipyards may be silent, but they continue to shape the cities that developed around them. They hang on in the architecture, the culture, and in the memories of people who once built and welded and dreamed below them.

Connecting Stories with Sprend

At Sprend, we’re not supposed to make an indication of cranes illuminating or an amusement park. Sprend is here to make sure you get the files where they need to go, when you are sending files all around the world, we are sharing ideas and preserving stories. No time for nostalgia, just a service that works and keeps stepping forward — like Pula, like Gothenburg. Perhaps one day replaced by its own version of cranes.

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