Transport of nuclear material. source: www.innuserv.com

“If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker.” - Albert Einstein

In the effort to mitigate climate change through the reduction of greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide, methane and nitrous oxide, alternative sources of energy have been suggested. These go from solar, wind and wave power to biofuels and nuclear energy. This last alternative is probably the most efficient of all, yet unfortunately, it entails risks which could render the debates on global warming, threats to biodiversity, over-exploitation of fisheries and deforestation pointless. The purpose of this article is not to add to the already widespread paranoia surrounding nuclear energy, but to show how this paranoia is self-contradicting.

For further reading: Plutionium: Is it really in safe hands? (The Seattle Times), Nuclear subs collide in Atlantic (BBC)

Considering that about 90% of world trade is made possible by ocean going vessels, it is safe to assume that no industry or commercial activity can survive without them. Such is certainly the case of the nuclear industry which today relies on specialized vessels to transport waste or nuclear fuel from on port to another and often, from one corner of the world to another. The International Maritime Organization (IMO) and the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) have worked hard to put in place guidelines and regulations which make the shipment of such cargoes safer and more secure. However, because naturally during a maritime adventure the forces of nature interact with mankind’s inherent fallibility, it is impossible to guarantee that no incident will happen.

The beginning of the transoceanic movement of nuclear materials can probably be fixed as November 7, 1992, when the Akatsuki Maru, laden with 1,700 kilograms of plutonium, sailed from Cherbourg, France to the port of Tokai, Japan. On its route, it stirred massive waves of protests which ultimately forced it -though probably only out of comity- to keep clear of the waters of many nations. Prior to this notorious venture there had been numerous shipments of radioactive materials, yet these had been of practically inoffensive quantities for use in scientific research and primarily as a result of the IAEA’s programme for developing the peaceful use of nuclear energy.

At that time (as in most cases today), nuclear power plants were fuelled by uranium, but with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaties (START I and II) signed by the United States of America and the Russian Federation, these States had to find a use for the plutonium contained in their respective warheads. In parallel, scientists were looking for ways to recycle nuclear waste and thereby diminish the quantity that had to be stored indefinitely underground; particularly since many facilities were reaching their full capacity and developments in International Law no longer permitted disposal of such materials at sea. The sum of these two circumstances led to the construction and commissioning of reprocessing plants where small quantities of plutonium could be combined with large amounts of depleted uranium for the creation of a new nuclear power plant combustible: Mixed Oxide Fuel (MOX). However, the costs and technology necessary for the construction of reprocessing facilities were -and remain- so dear that many States preferred to ship their radioactive wastes to those countries already in possession of the required infrastructure, such as Belgium, France and the United Kingdom. In the early 90’s these changes in the management of nuclear materials brought about their trade in great volumes. Some States immediately considered this activity to be extremely dangerous, risky and even unnecessary, while others -namely those benefiting from it- saw it as safe, efficient and highly profitable.

The Pacific Heron - one of the vessels used for radioactive shipment. source: www.innuserv.com

Several shipments of radioactive materials are made each year by, among others, France, Japan, the United Kingdom and the United States of America. On March 5^th for example, a shipment of 1,800 kilograms of plutonium left Cherbourg on board the Pacific Pintail and Pacific Heron. These vessels sailed southbound to clear the Cape of Good Hope, then proceeded east navigating south of Australia, veering north to follow New Zealand’s western coast, and finally through the waters of several pacific islands to arrive in Japan on May 18, after covering more than 17,000 kilometres. Just as the Akastsuki Maru, the Pacific Pintail and Pacific Heron were forced to keep well clear of the waters of certain coastal States that saw their passage as an unwarranted risk to their environment.

An incident involving a vessel carrying radioactive material could lead to the ultimate disappearance of a State who on that tragic occasion would not even know what the source of its disgrace was. Survival of its population could entail such dire complications as massive relocation -a scary panorama considering the 60 years of war between Israel and the Palestinians. If two nuclear submarines can crash into each other, I believe anything is possible. Why then is it so hard to imagine a spill of uranium or plutonium from a vessel underway? I am sure we can all think of at least one maritime catastrophe which should not have happened. The following are some examples.

On the morning of December 6, 1917, at a time when Europe was overwhelmed by war, the S.S. Mont Blanc, a vessel fully laden with munitions, picric acid and benzol was sailing towards the Bedford Basin in Halifax to join a convoy which would later depart for France. While navigating inbound through The Narrows she collided against the S.S. Imo, a Norwegian relief vessel which was headed for New York. It was not a harsh collision, but severe enough to ignite the canisters of benzol which were on the deck of the S.S. Mont Blanc. In the explosion that ensued approximately 2,000 people lost their lives; 9,000 were injured; 2.5 square kilometers of Halifax were completely destroyed; windows were shattered up to 100km from the site; and a part of the anchor, weighing more than half a ton, landed 3 kilometers away. The magnitude of the blast  would only be surpassed some decades later when the Little Boy was dropped on Hiroshima and the Fat Man on Nagasaki. This disaster was an accident.

In a similar scale, on April 16, 1947, while the S.S. Grandcamp was loading a cargo of ammonium nitrate fertilizer a fire broke out in one of the holds, triggering a massive explosion which leveled over 500 homes, injured more than 5,000 and claimed the lives of about 600 people in Texas City. The explosion was so strong that it was felt over 300 kilometers away, with its shockwave causing two airplanes to lose control and crash. The 1.5 ton anchor was found 3.2 kilometers away. This was also an accident.

Other tragedies worth remembering include the oil spills of the vessels Torrey Canyon in 1967, which resulted in a spill of over 120,000 tons off the western coast of England; Amoco Cadiz in 1978 (223,000 spilled off the shores of Brittany), Exxon Valdez which ran aground in Alaska in 1989 releasing over 35,000 tons into the pristine environment of the Prince William Sound, and the more recent disasters of the Erika (14,000 tons) and Prestige (60,000 tons). These were all accidents.

The worst environmental catastrophe however, although not maritime related, is without a doubt that which occurred in the early hours of April 26, 1986, about 100 kilometers north of Kiev, when one of the reactors at the nuclear facility located in Chernobyl overheated. There ensued a series of explosions which resulted in radioactive debris escaping into the atmosphere and spreading through Ukraine, Belarus, the Baltic and well into Scandinavia and Europe. In fact, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) reported that among its members, the only one who escaped contamination was Australia. This incident released 100 times more radiation than the atomic bombs dropped on Japan during World War II and like these; its consequences have not met any barriers in time or space.

With all these examples in our history, why do we refuse to accept that certain fields of science should be left alone? The shipment of large quantities of radioactive materials is an activity which, because of the risks it entails, should cease. Seeing that states acknowledge how important safety is, they should also concede, as Sweden has done, that the safest way to manage such substances is to avoid displacing them. This is where a huge contradiction in the paranoia which surrounds the use of nuclear energy, be it for peaceful purposes or not, arises: during the last year western powers have been extremely concerned by Iran’s nuclear policy, so just last week the IAEA brokered a deal which contemplates the scheme of having Iran ship its uranium to France or Russia so that these countries may enrich it and ship it back for use in Iran’s experimental nuclear reactor. The process would impede Iran from deviating the nuclear fuel to the production of weapons, but would mean that such cargo would have to move through the vast and supposedly unstable region, where, if nothing else, it could fall into the hands of the so feared terrorists. Which threat is greater? Isn’t this question absurd? Doesn’t nuclear energy altogether entail such a risk -and paranoia- that we should rather turn to other sources of energy and different ways of deterring acts of aggression?

ROBERTO CAMARA

The author would appreciate it if the comments to this article were made in English