Nuclear plant becomes dangerous wasteland
RICHLAND, Wash. — A stainless steel tank the size of a basketball court lies buried in the sandy soil of southeastern Washington state. It holds radioactive waste — and it is leaking.
For 42 years, tank AY-102 has stored some of the deadliest material at one of the most environmentally contaminated places in the country: the Hanford Nuclear Reservation.
This complex along the Columbia River holds a storied place in American history. It was here that workers produced the plutonium for the atomic bomb dropped by the U.S. on Nagasaki, Japan, in 1945 — effectively ending World War II.
Today Hanford’s legacy is less about what was made here than the environmental mess left behind — and the federal government’s inability, for nearly a quarter-century now, to rid Hanford once and for all of its worst hazard: 56 million gallons of toxic waste cached in aging underground tanks.
Technical problems, mismanagement and repeated delays have plagued the interminable cleanup of the 586-squaremile site, prolonging an effort that has cost taxpayers $36 billion to date and is estimated will cost $115 billion more.
Add to that the leaks involving AY-102 and other tanks at the site, and watchdog groups, politicians and others are left wondering: Will Hanford ever really be free of its waste? If not, what will its environmental effect be on important waterways, towns and generations to come?
“One corner of our country and my state acted as a stalwart during World War II and the Cold War and did the right thing,” Washington Gov. Jay Inslee said in a recent interview. “We want the federal government to fulfill its obligation to our state.”
There is no greater challenge at Hanford today than its underground tank waste. The leaks inside AY-102, a doublewalled tank that was supposed to provide more protection against spillage — as well as newer leaks found this year in six other single-walled tanks — show how critical the situation has become.
Put simply: Time is running out on Hanford’s deteriorating tanks and, in turn, for completing work on a more permanent solution to store what’s in them.
The first storage tanks, 149 of them, were built between 1943 and 1964 with just a single, stainless-steel wall. They were designed to last only 10 to 20 years, because they were intended as a stopgap measure until a more permanent solution could be found to deal with the waste. Turns out the tanks were susceptible to corrosion; some even buckled from the extreme heat radiated by the waste.
As early as 1956, workers suspected one tank was leaking. Between 1959 and 1968, the U.S. Energy Department confirmed that 12 tanks were leaking.
Around that time, workers started building 28 double-walled tanks to provide better protection, then began pumping the most dangerous liquid waste out of the leaking tanks into these vessels. By 1995, they had gotten as much of the pumpable liquid out as possible, leaving behind sludge the consistency of peanut butter.
AY-102 was the first double-walled tank, put into service in 1971 with an intended lifespan of 40 years.
The tank contains chunks of solids — many common metals, including aluminum, nickel, lead, silver, copper, titanium and zinc — as well as other common elements.
It also holds more than a dozen radionuclides, such as plutonium, uranium, strontium and cesium, all of which can cause cancers upon contact.
Last fall, at 41 years of age, AY-102 was found to be leaking into the space between its inner and outer shells. So far, no waste has escaped the outer shell to the soil surrounding the tank.