James Conca, Contributor
I cover the underlying drivers of energy, technology and society.
Hurricane Sandy is just the latest in a growing number of severe weather events. Last week was also a surprise quiz on what infrastructure stands up to extreme weather and what doesn’t.
Nuclear did best of all. Natural gas, not so well. Houses built on shifting sand, very badly.
Nuclear power plants had no problems riding out the storm. Although many ideologues tried to stoke fear about how we were going to have a Fukushima here in America, and how we only narrowly averted it, there was never any real danger.
It is notable that the oldest nuclear plants in America weathered the strongest Atlantic storm is history. But hurricanes have never been a problem for our nuclear plants.
There were 34 nuclear facilities in Hurricane Sandy’s path from South Carolina to Vermont, including the oldest plants operating in the United States. 24 were completely unfazed and kept generating power throughout the storm. Seven were already in a scheduled shut down for inspection or refueling and were also unaffected. Three were shut down as designed according to protocols that kick in during a major disaster.
No actual problems occurred and all plants returned to normal operations or continued their scheduled refueling or inspections after the storm.
But emotions were high when it was announced by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission that the reactor at Oyster Creek in New Jersey, the oldest nuclear power plant of all, was on Alert.
Water from Hurricane Sandy rose almost 7 feet above normal, threatening the water intake structure that pumps cooling water through the plant. Even though the pumps were not essential since the plant is in a scheduled refueling shut down, and plant operators even moved a portable pump into the threatened building in case the regular pump had been submerged, the sense was that things were amiss.
When nothing actually happened, the alert was called off two days later.
Since WWII, nuclear has become the poster child for extreme events. Ironically, nuclear energy in America is now the poster child for emergency preparedness.
Contrast this with our natural gas infrastructure where we’ve done a poor job. For days natural gas fires have been burning from ruptured gas lines after Hurricane Sandy ripped up the houses and businesses attached to them.
In a truly heroic effort, gas companies and their field workers responded to thousands of leaks in the region and continue to bring the system into safe condition. New Jersey Natural Gas cut off gas flow completely on Thursday in order to stop the fuel to these fires, but much damage was done. Entire neighborhoods were burned. And it left tens of thousands without gas who need it more than ever.
But in places like Mantoloking, Lavallette and Breezy Point, homes were burnt husks on Wednesday, horrible smells accompanying the hiss of broken pipes and the sight of gas bubbling up through pools of water.
Natural gas’ ever-present twin menace – the leak and the spark – surfaced in this storm with a vengeance, as it will in every future disaster now that we’ve decided to become a natural gas nation in the face of a changing climate.
Our safety record with natural gas is abysmal. Too many people die each year from pipeline explosions and house fires. Like our automatic shut downs of refineries and nuclear power plants in preparation for extreme weather, we need protocols for shutting off gas lines in preparation for extreme events.
Then there are the images of tons and tons of sand covering roads and houses along the coast. For a long, long time sedimentologists have been warning about the dangers of building on sand bars, barrier islands and sand spits into the ocean. We know they are ephemeral. They’re part of the ocean-continent boundary that shifts constantly, sometimes dramatically. They are not stable.
It sounds boring, but city planning, risk management, geologic zoning are really, really important. Spending on safety, first responders, FEMA, risk management and infrastructure may seem like a luxury in rough economic times, but they’re all that stand between us and the indifferent chaos of Nature.