But
as the nuclear expansion got underway north of Columbia, neither state nor
federal officials were told that unlicensed workers were crafting blueprints
and conducting complex engineering calculations. This left professional
engineers questioning the entire construction process that wasted $9 billion
before it was cancelled in July.
The
practice contributed to thousands of design revisions, construction setbacks,
schedule changes and the ultimate demise of the reactors, those engineers
said.
“You
literally can’t make up the errors that were propagated in this thing,"
said one engineer from V.C. Summer, who asked not to be named for fear of
retribution. "I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. It was
beyond comprehension. They enshrined incompetence.”
The
nation turned its attention to South Carolina as Westinghouse and two of the
state's largest utilities attempted to complete the first reactors built in the
United States in decades. The endeavor promised to usher in a new age of
nuclear power.
Instead,
the project became a crater of debt that left electric customers on the hook
for a squandered investment larger than the state's $8 billion annual budget.
Two
legislative committees, South Carolina's attorney general and federal
authorities have launched investigations into the failed project.
It
remains unclear exactly who was producing the unlicensed designs that led to
problems, what education they had, where they were from or what their
professional backgrounds were.
But
if you’re building a potentially dangerous nuclear reactor, V.C. Summer
engineers argued, you should have certified professionals designing it
— people willing to stand by the drawings they attach their name to.
High
stakes
It
may not be well known outside the industry, but the licensing of engineers is a
long-held and widespread practice that has a direct, if often unrealized,
impact on everyone’s lives.
Roads,
office buildings and new manufacturing facilities — professional engineers are
required to oversee and sign off on drawings for nearly every large
construction project in South Carolina. It protects the public and ensures
people get what they pay for.
You
want competent people designing the bridges you drive over, the dams located
above your home and the nuclear plants in your backyard.
Texas’s
engineering law was passed in 1937 after 295 students and teachers were killed
at a school by a natural gas explosion caused by a faulty gas connection.
“The
stakes are high,” said Arthur Schwartz, the deputy executive director and
general counsel for the National Society of Professional Engineers.
"That’s what engineers do. They’re responsible for systems and processes
that the public relies on and probably takes for granted.”
A
college degree doesn’t make someone a licensed engineer. It takes hours of
rigorous testing and years of work under the guidance of experienced people
before anyone can call themselves a “professional engineer.”
The
new Westinghouse reactors offered a huge opportunity for professional civil,
mechanical, electrical and nuclear engineers in the United States.
It
was their chance to take part in something that hasn’t been accomplished in
roughly three decades. It was an opening to showcase their abilities on a
project intended to rebuild the country’s nuclear workforce.
In
the years leading up to construction of four Westinghouse nuclear reactors in
South Carolina and neighboring Georgia, executives with the 131-year-old
company touted the safety features of the new AP1000 design. They celebrated
the reactors’ unique modular construction. They promised it would eliminate
schedule delays and budget overruns.
But
designing and engineering a new nuclear power plant is a huge undertaking.
SCANA,
the majority owner of the two South Carolina reactors, had convinced
politicians and state utility regulators of the merits of nuclear power by the
beginning of 2009. Westinghouse had cleared most of its high-level design for
the reactors with federal nuclear regulators.
The
details of what bolts needed to be installed, where electrical wires would run
and how pipes would be configured, however, had yet to be worked out. It meant
tens of thousands of drawings and blueprints needed to be designed, reviewed
and approved before they went into the hands of ironworkers, electricians and
pipefitters.
To
make sure the drawings were done properly, professional engineers needed to
review the documents and attest to their accuracy. The drawings had to be
created by a licensed engineer or by someone under their direct supervision,
according to state law.
Either
way, the drawings required a signature to ensure people could determine which
engineer designed those sections of the reactor in case something went wrong.
The
problem was, no one state agency was tasked with collecting and reviewing all
of those plans. The state Board of Registration for Professional Engineers
doesn't have the legal authority to inspect engineering worksites, and the NRC
does not get into that level of detail in its review.
The
federal regulators were primarily concerned with the conceptual designs for the
reactors, not the detailed blueprints and intricacies of South Carolina’s
engineering laws.
That
left the door open to potential shortcuts.
'Subject
to interpretation'
By
the spring of 2012, before the nuclear reactors started rising out of the South
Carolina and Georgia clay, Westinghouse attorneys were hard at work drafting a
legal opinion.
It
was a little over a month after SCANA received its delayed construction license
from the NRC. Already, the South Carolina project had fallen behind the generic
schedule that utility executives supplied to state regulators in 2009.
Trees
had been cleared. Roads had been built. Huge holes had been excavated.
Pressure
was building on the engineering side of things. Only 40 percent of the
construction-ready design was reportedly complete. The deadline for federal tax
credits loomed. SCANA had finally given the order to start pouring concrete and
erecting steel.
But
you can’t build something as complicated as a nuclear reactor without drawings
in hand.
Amid
this backdrop, SCANA’s leadership approached Westinghouse’s team. They asked
the Pennsylvania-based company to provide an opinion of whether state
engineering laws had to be followed when assembling the reactors.
In
response, Westinghouse’s deputy general counsel drafted a 13-page legal opinion
on May 7, 2012, arguing the engineering laws in South Carolina, Georgia and any
other state where an AP1000 reactor was built didn't apply. They reasoned their
federal licenses superseded state requirements.
Westinghouse’s
vice president of engineering for new plants, the company’s director of
engineering and procurement and its director of federal licensing for the
AP1000 were all given a copy of the document. The director of nuclear
engineering for Shaw, one of the original contracting companies, also was
looped in.
But
Santee Cooper, the minority owner of the South Carolina reactors, was never
notified of Westinghouse's opinion, according to officials with the state-run
utility.
The
need for professional engineers to approve all of the reactor designs was a
waste of time and money, Westinghouse's attorneys said. Getting the required
stamps and signatures for the reactors at V.C. Summer and Plant Vogtle in
Georgia would only "disrupt and frustrate," they said.
Some
drawings for the reactors did have to be handed over to state agencies such as
the Department of Health and Environmental Control.
In
those cases, Westinghouse’s lawyers assured SCANA that everything would be done
by the book. All of the office buildings and storage garages at the
construction site that were reviewed by state regulators would be designed and
approved by professional engineers, the attorneys said.
Not
so for the nuclear reactors that are 30 miles away from South Carolina’s
capital.
The
setup was comparable to a hospital arguing it didn’t need doctors with medical
licenses to treat patients, or a law firm hiring people who didn’t pass the bar
to represent clients. It costs less money, but there are far fewer guarantees
in the quality of the work.
The
legality is even more questionable.
With
no precedent in South Carolina, Westinghouse’s deputy general counsel warned
her legal opinion could be “subject to interpretation.”
Troublemakers
As
SCANA comforted utility regulators about increased budgets, temporary schedules
and delayed completion dates, engineers said managers with Westinghouse and the
Cayce-based utility ignored the concerns of some of their own professional
staff.
Blueprints
that were “issued for construction” started showing up at the southern tip of
the Monticello Reservoir with so many flaws nearly every drawing was revised on
site.
By
the summer and fall of 2015, an estimated 600 engineering changes were made per
month, according to an audit produced by Bechtel, the country’s largest civil
engineering firm.
Some
of those design changes required more paperwork than the original drawings,
Bechtel employees found. It was suspected that Westinghouse’s design work was
barely outpacing construction. The drawings, the audit found, were "often
not constructible."
The
constant revisions made work for thousands of laborers even harder, and helped
stall the build. Daily construction orders for craftsmen were held up. Requests
for supplies would have to be rushed when the work plans were finally handed
out.
The
reams of design changes, the Bechtel audit found, made it difficult for those
construction employees to know if they were working off the right
blueprints.
It
wasn’t until concrete was poured that workers realized a Westinghouse designer
in Pittsburgh had doubled the amount of rebar needed in part of the power
plant's foundation.
The
steel reinforcing rods were so tightly packed that when workers poured the
concrete for a section of the turbine building the slurry didn't flow properly.
It left bubbles and empty spaces in the floor — a mistake that cost millions of
dollars and months to fix.
The
engineers at V.C. Summer did what they could to fix the problems as the designs
arrived, but when several of them realized drawings weren’t officially
"sealed," the issue became more serious.
A
large part of the civil engineering designs that lay out the steel and concrete
at the plant were stamped, engineers told The Post and Courier. That wasn't the
case for the mechanical and electrical blueprints that outline the reactors'
pipes, pumps, fans and electrical systems.
Concerns
about the unlicensed engineering were raised up the chains of command in both
Westinghouse and SCANA in past years, engineers said, only to be slapped down
by more senior management.
“It
put us in a terrible situation,” one engineer said, “because if we raised the
issue we’re tagged as troublemakers.”
SCANA
and Westinghouse did not answer questions about the alleged complaints.
Delays,
incorrect parts, thousands of engineering changes, and billions of dollars in
wasted money can be traced back to faulty drawings produced by unlicensed
people working in Spain, North Carolina and Pennsylvania, those V.C. Summer
engineers said.
“Everything
else on this project was incompetence. This was criminal,” said another
engineer who also asked to remain anonymous.
'Race
to the bottom'
By
the beginning of this year, the weight of the nuclear construction in South
Carolina and Georgia was sinking Westinghouse and its parent company Toshiba.
Westinghouse,
a business founded before light bulbs spread to every home and power lines
webbed across the country, filed for bankruptcy at the end of March after
contributing to a $9 billion loss for the Japanese conglomerate.
The
bankruptcy left the utilities in South Carolina with a decision to make: Do you
continue to build the reactors without your primary contractor? Or do you cut
your losses and dump the projects that were already years behind schedule and
billions of dollars over budget?
SCANA’s
executives were told the fully integrated construction schedule that had been
promised by Westinghouse didn’t exist.
Only
30 percent of the reactors were complete. The inaccurate designs had
contributed to less than 0.5 percent of the reactors being built every month,
engineers said.
It
was the leaders of state-run Santee Cooper that ultimately decided the South
Carolina construction couldn’t continue. SCANA’s executives relented. Lawmakers
responded with disgust.
Since
then, SCANA's knowledge of the unlicensed engineering has remained unquestioned
in front of two special legislative committees. Westinghouse’s decision to
disregard state law has gone unrecognized as the energy industry continues to
assess the dimming future of nuclear power in the United States.
The
NRC requires the reactor vessels, coolant pumps and other vital nuclear
components manufactured for the reactors to be designed by professional
engineers, agency officials said.
But
the federal government doesn't have laws or regulations directly requiring the
designs for the rest of the reactors be stamped and signed by licensed
individuals. Those requirements are covered by the states, said Scott
Burnell, a public affairs officer with the NRC.
Still,
the companies building nuclear reactors in the United States are “always responsible
for meeting relevant state and local requirements," Burnell
said,
Westinghouse
and SCANA refused to answer whether they shared the 2012 legal opinion with the
NRC, an outside law firm, the state attorney general or the South Carolina
Department of Labor, Licensing and Regulation. They wouldn't say if anyone else
had confirmed their legal position.
Some
of the design failures at V.C. Summer could have been picked up
by engineering students in college, the engineers said.
The
batteries that would maintain power for the reactors during an emergency were
delivered to V.C. Summer, but were designed for the wrong electrical current.
The giant, two-story-tall transformers arrived, but the multimillion-dollar
electrical components were configured wrong.
The
shoddy drawings are what professional engineers refer to as a "root
cause." It all stems back to the 2012 decision.
“It
was a race to the bottom," said one engineer.
Tony
Bartelme contributed to this report.
Reach
Andrew Brown at 843-708-1830 or follow him on Twitter @andy_ed_brown.