Slow, Risky State
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
Aug. 13, 2002
The 400-foot barge sits on a windswept stretch of the Pacific Ocean, a hulking vessel tethered to an oil cleanup unique in state history.
Directly below, about 175 feet into the chilly depths, divers breathing a special mix of helium and oxygen are draining oil from the crumpled wreckage of the SS Jacob Luckenbach.
The 468-foot freighter, which sank nearly five decades ago, lies on a sandy swath of the ocean floor about 17 miles southwest of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Its complex and mysterious network of pipes and tanks are estimated to contain about 75,000 gallons of retrievable oil.
The Florida marine salvage firm assigned to pump the oil from the rotting vessel has never handled a job quite like this one.
So far, Titan Maritime has sucked about 12,000 gallons of oil from the shipwreck in an industrious project that began May 24.
"We'll be out there until all the recoverable oil is gathered," said Lt. Tim Callister of the Coast Guard, which awarded a contract to Titan earlier this year.
The growing $12 million job, beset by stormy seas and the learn-as-you-go nature of underwater pumping, is expected to last at least six more weeks.
Nonetheless, state and federal officials are excited about the prospect of resolving a troubling situation that has left the state coastline littered with thousands of dead seabirds.
Earlier this year, environmental sleuths linked the Luckenbach to a series of puzzling and deadly oil slicks dating to the early 1990s.
In late November, scores of oiled seabirds, mostly common murres, began washing ashore from Santa Cruz to Point Reyes.
The "Leaking Luke," as it would soon be called, was flowing fast.
Since the outbreak in November, 812 oil-soaked birds had been recovered and treated at the San Francisco Bay Oiled Wildlife Care and Education Center in Suisun City.
Nearly 280 of the gaunt creatures have been scrubbed clean and set free, said Scott Newman, a response coordinator at the wildlife center.
But the oil recovery project is far from over; birds are still being plucked from shorelines.
On a recent day, the Coast Guard ferried a small group of reporters to the remote cleanup site in a 47-foot search-and-rescue vessel.
The Golden Gate Bridge quickly disappeared in a hazy mist as the boat glided across the choppy waters during a 50-minute trip.
Common murres, which nest at the Farallon Islands, bobbed and fluttered in the blue-green sea.
Finally, the boat sputtered to a stop about 200 feet from the giant barge, encircled by a handful of rusted anchor balls and tethered to the "Gladiator," a safety tugboat.
This is where about 40 people have lived since late May, primarily communicating with a two-person dive team who spend eight to 12 hours a day underwater.
Every 28 days, the divers are replaced with a fresh pair who work all day and live in a pressurized chamber aboard the barge, breathing helium and oxygen. The helium replaces nitrogen, which becomes too dangerous to use at certain depths.
The divers, wearing special suits that flow constantly with warm water, are lowered into the murky depths every day in a 6-foot-wide tank that looks like a giant coffee mug with port holes.
While one worker keeps watch inside the dive bell, the other wades through swift currents and 42-degree water from a 100-foot-long cable. He or she then tries to drain oil from the sunken ship.
The job is extremely difficult because there are no clear, accurate drawings of the Luckenbach, which sank in 1953 loaded with military supplies after colliding with the SS Hawaiian Pilot.
No one knows precisely where all the oil is stored, though more than two dozen tanks have been identified.
"It's not possible to know what we have until we get down there," Callister said. "When we decide to pump a tank, and oil starts flowing, a week's time has passed. It's not a quick operation."
Indeed, the tanks must be properly heated before the oil is funneled through a 6-inch hose up to the floating barge above.
In any case, no one seems prepared to give up on the shipwreck even while the costs and daily challenges pile up.
In an interview before the job began, Richard Fairbanks, president of Titan Maritime, said the project would offer a window into the future.
"As time goes by, 60- to 70-year-old wrecks start leaking," he said. "And this will become more common. For now, we're just on the edge."
Contra Costa Newspapers
Aug. 13, 2002
The 400-foot barge sits on a windswept stretch of the Pacific Ocean, a hulking vessel tethered to an oil cleanup unique in state history.
Directly below, about 175 feet into the chilly depths, divers breathing a special mix of helium and oxygen are draining oil from the crumpled wreckage of the SS Jacob Luckenbach.
The 468-foot freighter, which sank nearly five decades ago, lies on a sandy swath of the ocean floor about 17 miles southwest of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Its complex and mysterious network of pipes and tanks are estimated to contain about 75,000 gallons of retrievable oil.
The Florida marine salvage firm assigned to pump the oil from the rotting vessel has never handled a job quite like this one.
So far, Titan Maritime has sucked about 12,000 gallons of oil from the shipwreck in an industrious project that began May 24.
"We'll be out there until all the recoverable oil is gathered," said Lt. Tim Callister of the Coast Guard, which awarded a contract to Titan earlier this year.
The growing $12 million job, beset by stormy seas and the learn-as-you-go nature of underwater pumping, is expected to last at least six more weeks.
Nonetheless, state and federal officials are excited about the prospect of resolving a troubling situation that has left the state coastline littered with thousands of dead seabirds.
Earlier this year, environmental sleuths linked the Luckenbach to a series of puzzling and deadly oil slicks dating to the early 1990s.
In late November, scores of oiled seabirds, mostly common murres, began washing ashore from Santa Cruz to Point Reyes.
The "Leaking Luke," as it would soon be called, was flowing fast.
Since the outbreak in November, 812 oil-soaked birds had been recovered and treated at the San Francisco Bay Oiled Wildlife Care and Education Center in Suisun City.
Nearly 280 of the gaunt creatures have been scrubbed clean and set free, said Scott Newman, a response coordinator at the wildlife center.
But the oil recovery project is far from over; birds are still being plucked from shorelines.
On a recent day, the Coast Guard ferried a small group of reporters to the remote cleanup site in a 47-foot search-and-rescue vessel.
The Golden Gate Bridge quickly disappeared in a hazy mist as the boat glided across the choppy waters during a 50-minute trip.
Common murres, which nest at the Farallon Islands, bobbed and fluttered in the blue-green sea.
Finally, the boat sputtered to a stop about 200 feet from the giant barge, encircled by a handful of rusted anchor balls and tethered to the "Gladiator," a safety tugboat.
This is where about 40 people have lived since late May, primarily communicating with a two-person dive team who spend eight to 12 hours a day underwater.
Every 28 days, the divers are replaced with a fresh pair who work all day and live in a pressurized chamber aboard the barge, breathing helium and oxygen. The helium replaces nitrogen, which becomes too dangerous to use at certain depths.
The divers, wearing special suits that flow constantly with warm water, are lowered into the murky depths every day in a 6-foot-wide tank that looks like a giant coffee mug with port holes.
While one worker keeps watch inside the dive bell, the other wades through swift currents and 42-degree water from a 100-foot-long cable. He or she then tries to drain oil from the sunken ship.
The job is extremely difficult because there are no clear, accurate drawings of the Luckenbach, which sank in 1953 loaded with military supplies after colliding with the SS Hawaiian Pilot.
No one knows precisely where all the oil is stored, though more than two dozen tanks have been identified.
"It's not possible to know what we have until we get down there," Callister said. "When we decide to pump a tank, and oil starts flowing, a week's time has passed. It's not a quick operation."
Indeed, the tanks must be properly heated before the oil is funneled through a 6-inch hose up to the floating barge above.
In any case, no one seems prepared to give up on the shipwreck even while the costs and daily challenges pile up.
In an interview before the job began, Richard Fairbanks, president of Titan Maritime, said the project would offer a window into the future.
"As time goes by, 60- to 70-year-old wrecks start leaking," he said. "And this will become more common. For now, we're just on the edge."
posted by Corey at 7:45 PM
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