Radioactive Waste Site: A Shift in Strategy


By MATTHEW L. WALD


LAS VEGAS — After spending 14 years and $4.5 billion to figure out
whether Yucca Mountain is dry and stable enough to entomb highly
radioactive waste for 10,000 years, the Department of Energy is
shifting its focus from geology to the protective powers of
titanium and steel.

 What began as an exercise to find dry rock with predictable
characteristics in an ancient desert ridge has evolved into a
debate about whether the engineers can create materials that will
survive the natural environment at Yucca.

 Nevada officials, who oppose the waste site, argue that 95 percent
of the federal plan for safe storage now relies on tough
containers, not on the geology that attracted federal interest in
the first place. Since a repository with containers that good could
go anywhere, said Robert Loux, director of Nevada's Nuclear Waste
Project Office, "then you could put it in Central Park."

 While the alternative to Yucca, near here, is not really Central
Park, the federal emphasis on engineered safety features represents
a revolution in thinking. To debate that approach, the federal
government and the State of Nevada are fielding opposing teams of
scientists.

 When preliminary work on the site began 20 years ago, the emphasis
was on the safety afforded by the mountain's geology. At the time,
the federal government said the engineered aspects of a "geologic
repository" (engineers wince at the word "dump") could not be
counted on to keep things safe after the first thousand years, and
perhaps not even that long.

 But as the Energy Department moves nearer to advising President
Bush this year on whether to proceed with seeking a license for the
site, the "engineered" portion of the design is dominating the
discussion. This spring, the department issued a report that said
containers could be counted on to hold up for at least 11,000 years
after the site was sealed.

 The wastes will be dangerously radioactive for many millenniums,
although the Energy Department need show only that releases will be
small for the first 10,000 years.

 The problem is that Yucca Mountain has turned out to be wetter and
its geology more complex than proponents had first thought.

 "The original perception was that it is drier than it is today,"
said Dr. Michael D. Voegele, the chief science officer of Bechtel
SAIC Company, the Energy Department's chief contractor for
investigating the mountain. The site is still extremely dry, Dr.
Voegele said. Most of the six or seven inches of annual rainfall
evaporates, he said, so a square centimeter of Yucca's surface
would generally see a column of water only one centimeter high move
through it in a year. Even if climate change triples rainfall at
the site, it will be dry enough, they say.

 But water is more of a consideration than initially thought. One
of the characteristics that drew scientists to the site was how
slowly water was transmitted through the solid portions of the
rock. But water flows through the mountain are about 10 times as
large as first thought, largely because the rock, put there by
successive volcanic eruptions nearby, turns out to be liberally
laced with small fractures that were created as the volcanic ash
cooled, and those fractures conduct water quickly.

 There is no agreement on how fast any escaping radioactive
material would move through the dirt and to the nearest well, now
about 11 miles away. At this geologic time scale, language tends to
change. The state argues that the time for leaking waste to
percolate down to those wells would be "essentially instantaneous"
— only 300 years or so. Federal officials say that is a
misinterpretation of their numerous computer studies and that any
leaking waste would move extremely slowly.

 But the officials agree that their work has shifted into a new
area, into how to design a repository consistent with what they
have learned about the rock.

 "There's been an evolution after finding that the site isn't what
it's supposed to be," said Mr. Loux of the state's nuclear waste
agency. "They're doing engineering to shore it up."

 The latest design (still described as "conceptual") is to dig
about 100 miles of tunnels and fill them with 11,000 to 17,000
containers, each about the size of a tank on a tanker truck,
between two faults in the mountain. Each container would be made of
stainless steel two inches thick and wrapped in a layer of a
durable metal called Alloy 22, then topped with a $500,000 titanium
drip shield that would resemble a giant rural mailbox.

 What water there is will be drawn away down the sides of the
tunnel, not drop into the metal, federal engineers predict. A
recent innovation is to perch the containers on metal rather than
concrete, since concrete can turn the water acidic, encouraging
corrosion.

 Corrosion is very much at issue. Experiments commissioned by the
State of Nevada at a laboratory at Catholic University of America
showed that Alloy 22 could break down in as little as 15 days —
under harsh conditions, with the right recipe of heat, acidic water
and trace amounts of lead, arsenic and mercury. One task now is to
determine whether heat and time will cook any of those elements out
of the rock and create those conditions.

 Rainwater at the site is not acidic, but state scientists say it
will become so in the mountain, by absorbing carbon dioxide there.
Scientists working for the federal government doubt that the water
can become acidic enough to dissolve and carry lead to the
canisters.

 Difficult decisions lie ahead. Engineers are still trying to
determine whether the repository should be "hot" or "cool" — above
the boiling point or below it. The peak temperature, which would be
reached over a few hundred years, depends on how closely the waste
containers are spaced.

 The "heated halo" around a hot repository would boil water into
steam and drive it away, at least for the better part of the first
thousand years, protecting the containers from corrosion. But state
and federal scientists disagree over whether the steam may also
cook trace elements out of the rock and later cause problems when
the water flows back to the canisters.

 Engineers for the Energy Department say, however, that by spacing
the emplacement tunnels more widely, they can ensure that the water
will not accumulate above the repository but will filter through
the cool areas between tunnels. A cool system would avoid the
question but would allow water in almost immediately.

 Federal scientists say Yucca meets one of the early criteria
listed for a site: it is a "noncommunicating hydrologic regime,"
which means that water leaving the site through the ground goes to
a dead end, not to major rivers or oceans. In this case, the dead
end is Death Valley, which lies just beyond the Funeral Mountains,
clearly visible from the summit of Yucca.

 State scientists said they would be more impressed if the land
between Yucca and Death Valley were not the Amaragosa Valley, with
pistachio and alfalfa farms.

 To fill in the blanks in their research, federal scientists are
dumping large volumes of water to see where it comes out again and
heating areas of the rock the way spent fuel would heat it to
measure the physical and chemical effects.

 New doubts about the site were raised about five years ago, when
scientists found a synthetic isotope of chlorine at the depth of
the proposed repository, about 1,000 feet below the summit and
1,000 feet above the water table.

 That was important because the isotope was created by atmospheric
testing of nuclear bombs and spread worldwide by weather. The
implication was that rainfall at the summit since 1945 had already
penetrated to the repository. But when engineers did the tests
again recently, they did not find the chlorine isotope, raising the
possibility of testing error.

 "It's all a little bit disconcerting," Dr. Van Luik said. The
working assumption is that the water did, in fact, travel the 1,000
feet in about half a century. "Until it's resolved," he said, "we
don't want to step away from the conservatism."

 The "fast path" for water provided by cracks is important for
another reason: beneath the repository level, some materials are
zeolites, absorbent clays that chemists say would bind up
radioactive materials that escaped their containers.

 But if the area directly beneath the repository is similar to the
rock above it, much of the water will travel through cracks and
bypass the zeolites. Engineers say they are confident that the
zeolites will be beneficial but say they cannot figure that into
their official calculations because they cannot demonstrate what
will happen.

 To be confident in Yucca, federal scientists are trying to turn
geology and geochemistry — the study of the interaction of water,
pressure, heat and soil — into predictive sciences. At the urging
of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, they are also extending their
study of volcanism. A line of cinder cones is visible from the
mountaintop; scientists disagree about how old they are and when,
and where, the next is likely to form.

 One cone was initially estimated to be half a million years old
and later thought to be only 50,000 years old; a joke among project
opponents is that when its age is estimated again, the eruption
that produced it will not have happened yet.

 While the questions persist, so does the work at the mountain.
About 1,800 people are involved in the project, arriving at the
site on air- conditioned buses from Las Vegas. The group is well
enough established that it has an employee association that sells
coffee mugs and tote bags that say Yucca Mountain.

 And as the work goes on, the waste piles up at sites around the
country. The Yucca Mountain repository is supposed to hold 70,000
metric tons of waste. But the radioactive waste from power plants
already exceeds that amount — even before any increase in the
number of nuclear plants, as envisioned by the Bush administration.
The military also has a lot of waste that needs to be stored
permanently somewhere.

 The alternative to Yucca is probably a purely artificial
environment, the dry-cask storage yards now going up at nuclear
reactors around the United States. These are thick concrete pads
surrounded by razor wire and motion detectors, where enormous steel
canisters loaded with spent fuel sit for the indefinite future.

 Reactor operators say these will operate flawlessly for decades.
On the other hand, many sit in places that hardly anybody would
have chosen for permanent disposal. Yucca advocates say the site
has the advantage of being remote, as opposed to storage sites like
Prairie Island, in Red Wing, Minn. That site, on the Mississippi
River, is adjacent to a casino and a day care center.


Copyright 2001 The New York Times Company