That floating, weightless feeling is slightly dishonest; the steel is working very hard. A coastal Ferris wheel behaves less like a toy and more like a slow, exposed wind turbine, so engineers begin with foundations that act like anchors drilled deep into dense soil or rock, backed by finite element analysis that maps how every gust loads the rim and hub.
The real surprise is how much movement is allowed. A rigid wheel would crack, so the structure is designed to flex within tight limits, with tubular spokes and a lattice rim distributing stress while bearings and the central axle tolerate small rotations under lateral load, and tuned mass dampers inside the support frame quietly bleed off sway energy like mechanical shock absorbers.
Wind, not height, sets the rules. Cabin shapes are rounded to shed vortices, cutting vortex shedding that could lock the wheel into resonance, and the open truss of the main frame lets air pass through instead of hitting a solid wall, while anemometers on the crown feed control systems that slow, stop, or offload riders once preset wind thresholds are crossed.