Public Enterprises Minister Lynne Brown launched a major training programme for nuclear operators at Koeberg. Picture: Henk Kruger Public Enterprises Minister Lynne Brown launched a major training programme for nuclear operators at Koeberg. Picture: Henk Kruger
We are less than a kilometre from shore as a storm gathers off the coast, but the only sound is the electric hum of the lights in the control room.
Suddenly, a section of the control panel - a wall-to-wall, living diagram of the nuclear reactor, its turbines and power output - erupts in a cacophony of braying alarms and flashing lights.
An operator hurries over to diagnose the problem, and the news is not good, but an untrained observer would have no clue that the cooling system has failed and the core is in danger of overheating.
It's the worst-case scenario, we are told, but as the operators go about shutting down the reactor and restoring control you would swear they were discussing the family tree of R2-D2 from Star Wars.
“Put the AMNP selector in the S-position,” the team leader says or words to that effect.
There’s no recording allowed in this room so this is an approximation, not a verbatim transcript.
“Confirmed, AMNP in S-position, temperature is 150C, falling comes the response. But there is no trace of panic as they continue exchanging information in clipped monotones.
But there is urgency in everything they do, because, after all, if this were the actual control room at Koeberg nuclear power station and not the exact replica we are gathered in, these five technicians would be the only thing standing between the city and disaster, and they would have minutes to react.
It's a lonely job, not only because it happens far from public view - no pictures are allowed, even in the simulator - but because of the years of training and experience it takes to become a member of this select team, it will ideally, never be put to the test in reality.
It must be one of the few jobs requiring such a high degree of alertness in an atmosphere of uninterrupted monotony. Which is where the simulator comes in, serving the operators a constant diet of nightmare-scenario curve balls in which their performance is monitored and their mental well-being evaluated.
They rewrite their certification exams every year, for the whole of their career, and are expected to perform by the book - literally, there's a bookshelf holding manuals for almost every eventuality - in any circumstances.
Except the ones for which there is no manual, and then their intimate understanding of the system and its behaviours will be tested to the limit.
This week 98 new recruits, young, black, 40 of them women, joined the Koeberg team on a training programme intended to create a pipeline of nuclear-plant operators while transforming the make-up of this elite group.
It was, said Public Enterprises Minister Lynne Brown as she officially launched the programme, an opportunity to change their lives and break the chains of poverty they had grown up in.
It was also appropriate that it was happening in Youth Month, as the country remembered the sacrifices of the youth of 1976, which had made it possible for these modern counterparts to follow their dreams.
The recruits appeared to agree, breaking into song in praise of Brown as she entered the venue.
“I still feel like I’m hallucinating,” said Faith Maluleka about the honour of being selected for the programme.
As the country gears up for a 9 600MW nuclear-build programme, Brown said the training programme was partly in preparation for the future but was also necessary to serve the existing need.
Koeberg general manager Riedewaan Bakardien said a minimum of 23 senior reactor-operators were needed for a normal shift at the power station, along with 40 reactor and 100 plant operators.
“You would multiply that by about four or five times for what’s required for 9.6GW,” he pointed out.
“In any nuclear programme, it’s one of the first skills you would need to acquire - plant operators - the people who take your reactor-critical and look after it.”
Saturday Star