A Hapless Fukushima Clean-Up Effort 'We Need Every Piece of Wisdom We Can Get'
Part 2: Iodine 131 in Seawater at 5 Million Times Legal Limit
But the ocean is already radioactive, even without this toxic soup leaking into it. Groundwater near the plant has been contaminated since last week. And on Tuesday, the Japanese government issued its first-ever radiation safety standards for fish. Last Friday, a sample kounago fish, or sand lance, caught between Fukushima and Tokyo included double the levels of radioactive iodine 131 per kilogram permitted under the new rules.
TEPCO also reported on Monday it had found iodine 131 in seawater at 5 million times the legal limit as well as cesium 137 at 1.1 million times the legal limit near the water intake of Fukushima Daiichi's No. 2 reactor.
The Japanese government is now considering the use of a tanker to take up the excess radioactive water from the plant. Some have also proposed digging a holding pool on the plant grounds, which would require speedy excavation work. An artificial island the size of a soccer field called the "Megafloat," normally used by hobby fishermen, is also headed for Fukushima. Tepco plans to pump some of the radioactive water from the plant into the island's flotation tanks, which the company said could hold at least 10,000 tons of water.
Even TEPCO and the Japanese government now expect the state of emergency to continue for weeks or even months. On Friday, Prime Minister Naoto Kan told the nation that it would face "a long battle" over Fukushima.
90 Percent of those Exposed to Radiation Work for Subcontractors
The soldiers waging this battle are often ordinary contract workers of the sort Japanese electric utilities have always used to perform the dirty work in reactors. According to data from Japan's Nuclear Safety Commission, 90 percent of the employees exposed to radiation in Japanese nuclear plants work for subcontractors, not for the companies that own the plants.
Of the three men exposed to radiation the week before last when contaminated water leaked into their boots, two worked for a subcontractor. They were supervising the third man, who worked for a sub-subcontractor, according to the Japanese Kyodo news agency.
Many of the nuclear mercenaries have already been exposed to high levels of radiation. But despite their back-breaking, dangerous work, they aren't even being paid very well. One of the workers said that his pay ranges from 10,000 to 20,000 yen a day, or about 80 to 160 ($114 to $228). "It's a horrible job," says nuclear engineer Mitsuhiko Tanaka, "but someone who works for a subcontractor can't afford to turn it down."
Even in Japan, more and more people are asking themselves when the helpless improvisation will end. Nuclear critic Schneider wants TEPCO to finally set up an international crisis group of the world's top experts to develop solutions. "They should include short-term, medium-term and long-term solutions," says Schneider. "They need specialists for electricity, nuclear physics and water. All of this unplanned activity has to stop."
Could a Chernobyl-Like Sarcophagus Work for Fukushima?
The experts would also have to address plans to seal off the reactors. On Friday, the government began test-spraying a resin solution over debris at the crippled plant to prevent radioactive particles from being stirred up any further. There is also talk of a concrete sarcophagus of the type that was eventually used to seal off the reactor at the wrecked Chernobyl nuclear power plant in 1986. Activist Schneider, however, feels that it's much too early to contemplate such measures. "You can't seal off a boiling pot with concrete," says Schneider.
On a positive note, more and more experts are arriving on the scene every day. They include a team of 155 specially trained US Marines to help with decontamination and measuring radiation. Last week, French nuclear utility Areva dispatched 20 specialists to the island nation, including some familiar with the disposal of radioactive water. Areva CEO Anne Lauvergeon even traveled to Japan, where she sought to reassure her counterpart at TEPCO by telling him: "Consider me your employee."
Lauvergeon knows that what happens in Fukushima is also critical to Areva's survival. The company earns its money with nuclear power worldwide, including at Fukushima, where it supplied the fuel for Reactor 3. Areva's share price fell by 20 percent shortly after the accident.
The people living near the crippled plant are probably more interested in knowing when the fog of contradictory information will finally lift. They are flooded with new readings daily, with the data from hundreds of measuring sites throughout Japan -- on the edge of the restricted zone, at the plant site and in the ocean -- constantly being published on the Internet. Precise figures on the temperatures in the holding pools and the pressure levels in the containment vessels are updated daily. But what does all of this data mean?
TEPCO in the Hotseat
There is hardly anything TEPCO can do right at the moment. If the company doesn't publish its test readings right away, it is accused of covering up information. If it releases preliminary readings that later prove to be wrong, it is accused of sloppiness.
Last week Greenpeace measured radioactivity at the edge of the 30-kilometer evacuation zone. Although the environmentalists were using only an ordinary Geiger counter, their readings were roughly in line with the official results. However, the Greenpeace workers did encounter highly elevated levels in individual locations, like a valley road near Tsushima with heavy average rainfall and in a village called Iitate, where radioactivity levels measured in the soil were twice as high as the levels that led to the Chernobyl evacuation.
According to Edmund Lengfelder of the Otto Hug Radiation Institute in Munich, it is not enough to discuss the evacuation of a zone within a radius of 20, 30 or 50 kilometers of the power plant. Instead, he says, what is needed is a map that pinpoints levels of contamination with gamma rays, radioactive iodine and cesium. "Such maps ought to be the first thing that are made public," Lengfelder says with some outrage.
Even the Soviets did a better job of this after the Chernobyl disaster, says Lengfelder. Shortly after the accident, military dosimetrists and tracking teams created special maps that were then used as the basis for the evacuation.
Lengfelder believes that it is insufficient to simply declare a zone within a 20-kilometer radius to be off-limits. "When the Japanese government says that people outside this zone should leave voluntarily, it is shirking its responsibility," says the German expert, "because this means that it doesn't have to concern itself with providing shelter, food and other services to the people."
About half of the area residents are still sitting tight in the villages on the edge of the evacuation zone, reports Jan van de Putte, a Belgian nuclear expert with Greenpeace. But very few are venturing out into the streets.
It is even more deserted in the evacuated zone within a 20-kilometer radius of the Fukushima plant. The only place with some activity is the J-Village athletic training facility, where the Japanese national football team once trained. Now the government's crisis response team is using the giant facility, with its 12 football fields, stadium and convention center, as its operations center.
Helicopters circle the grounds and there are tanks on the parking lot, as if the Japanese hoped to use artillery to shoot down the radiation. But they are apparently there to demonstrate one thing: That the country is at war.
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan
- Part 1: 'We Need Every Piece of Wisdom We Can Get'
- Part 2: Iodine 131 in Seawater at 5 Million Times Legal Limit