Deepwater Horizon was a monument to human
engineering. Ten years ago, it was the latest example of
the technological heights of mankind. Through a clever mix of innovation and exploration,
we were able to build structures and tap resources that would have been thought absolutely impossible,
just one or two generations prior. Unfortunately, the story of Deepwater Horizon
was also a towering inferno of human greed -- an already-risky project that placed its
$500 million dollar structure and its priceless crew in obvious and foreseeable danger. What exactly happened, and why is it still
relevant today? Let’s head down, Lou’siana way, to the
Gulf of Mexico. Oysters & Oil It didn’t take long for our early 20th century
forefathers to realize that oil would be a critically important energy resource in modern
life. Oil wells were constructed in North America
as early as the 1890s, with different excursions in California, the Gulf Region, and the American
Midwest probing beneath lands and rivers. By the 1930s, oil hounds in the Louisiana
bayou had grown used to drilling for oil in the marshlands, and so they began edging out
into the Gulf of Mexico, using everything from barges, to homemade wooden platforms
built on a foundation of Oyster Shells. After a brief pause during World War 2, oil-minded
Americans were back on the bayou in 1945; by 1947, Oklahoma energy company Kerr-McGee
had built the first offshore oil platform that was completely out of sight from land. The oil rush exploded from there. If the 19th century boom was Americans headed
west in search of gold, then the 20th century must have been their return to the south in
search of its liquid black counterpart. Oil rigs could be seen across the landscape
from Alaska to Alabama, but nowhere felt the rush quite like Texas and Louisiana. Boomtowns completely changed the face of the
Texas economy in the early 1900s, and then again in the 1970s, as instability in the
middle east created a massive economic surge in Texas and the surrounding areas. In the gulf, offshore platforms continued
to drift farther and farther away from the shore, as oil companies like Chevron and BP
continued to learn just how profitable the Gulf of Mexico could be. By the year 2000, there were 1,200 wells drilled
in areas of the Gulf that were deeper than 1,000 feet. Here’s how a new well gets drilled. An exploratory team takes a specialized Sonar
ship out into the Gulf of Mexico, which, at 1.6 million square kilometers, is a little
more than half the size of the Mediterranean. The boat shoots sound waves down to the bottom
of the sea, mapping individual parts of the sea floor, as well as the subterranean layers
immediately below that. Computers create a three-dimensional model
of what that particular part of the Gulf looks like, and geologists use the model to identify
pockets where oil could be trapped. An exploratory drill rig will open up temporary
wells, where geologists can take core samples. From there, the geologists and the oil companies
they work for can make a pretty good guess at the quality and quantity of oil present
in one particular location. Petroleum companies have repeated this process
again and again for 75 years, steadily expanding their presence in the Gulf of Mexico until
they reached the Outer Continental Shelf – the portion of the Gulf, usually a few hundred
meters off the shore, where the depth really drops down to huge, four-digit numbers. Even 50 years ago, petroleum explorers could
map the bottom of the outer shelf and identify potential oil pockets, but they usually didn’t
have the technology to securely build wells that could access oil that deep underground. It wasn’t until the end of the 20th century
that the drilling technology caught up with the sonar technology, and we could make all
the mechanics and electronics that operate a modern oil rig. And about that oil rig – it might not be
what you’re envisioning. When I think of oil rigs, I think of the old-timey
towers and wells that dot the prairies of the American West. But modern oceanic rigs, called Mobile Offshore
Drilling Units, aren’t necessarily stationary towers built in a fixed location in the Gulf. Rigs that are designed for use in depths that
exceed 1,500 meters are mobile docks, dynamically positioned and controlled by computer-powered
thrusters. Now, you might be wondering: how does all
this drilling affect marine life? That’s a topic big enough for its own video,
but to put it simply: there are some effects, but they aren’t necessarily bad. Energy companies will invest in an Environmental
Impact Assessment before beginning a new exploratory procedure, with parameters based on updated
marine information that’s specific to that region. There is some concern about the effect of
the exploratory sonic waves used to find oil, but investigations have been inconclusive
so far. After a well is used up, and a rig’s operation
is no longer profitable, companies are required to seal the well and return the sea floor
to its previous condition. In the case of older, stationary rigs, they
may even be left as an artificial reef, for the marine life that made a home around it. In other words: when everything goes according
to plan, the oil industry and the environment can co-exist with a modest level of harmony. Unfortunately, accidents are inevitable, and
nothing ever goes as planned forever. Deepwater Horizon Whatever else it is, Deepwater Horizon is
a wonderfully poetic name. You might be inclined to think that Deepwater
Horizon is some beautiful point in the Gulf of Mexico, with picturesque, oceanic sunsets. But Deepwater Horizon is actually the name
of the oil rig. Deepwater Horizon was a technologically advanced
offshore drilling rig built by Hyundai Heavy Industries in Ulsan, South Korea, from 1998
to 2001. Originally, the project was commissioned for
a Houston-based energy company called R&B Falcon, but by the time the project was completed,
a Swiss company called Transocean had bought R&B Falcon and its 115 drilling rigs for $5
billion dollars. At the time, the purchase gave Transocean
control of the largest fleet of offshore drilling rigs in the world. Deepwater Horizon was a massive feat of modern
engineering . It was a 21st century mobile offshore drilling unit, with all the technology
that entails. It was a large vessel that was dynamically
positioned, with modern computer infrastructure that read and tracked real-time updates from
every part of the drill. In 2002, not long after it was built and ferried
to the Gulf of Mexico, it was updated with an even more advanced computer program called
E-Drill, that allowed additional technical support in Houston, Texas to monitor data
readouts and provide troubleshooting support, if necessary. The crown jewel of a rig like Deepwater Horizon,
both industrially and technologically, is the drill and accompanying safety equipment. Deepwater Horizon featured a deep sea drill
and blowout preventors that protected it from up to 100,000 kila-pascals of pressure, which
is roughly the same amount of pressure on an object at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. That’s the deepest known part of the ocean,
and five to ten times deeper than most of the “Ultra-Deep” drill locations in the
Gulf of Mexico. If, at any point, the rig computer senses
dangerous pressure building in any part of the drill or piping, the rig has the intelligence
and ability to shutter that portion and protect it from the pressure. If a hole bursts in any part of the drill,
the rig can actually glue itself back together, using a waterproof cement. It is wicked cool. In 2001, when Deepwater Horizon was fully
built, it was leased to British Petroleum. The original lease ran through 2004, and it
was renewed three times – in 2004, 2005, and 2009. By the final contract, BP was paying Transocean
about $500,000 dollars per day to drill for oil with Deepwater Horizon. It was, at the time, one of the most valuable
and powerful tools in the world, and that’s partially because of its drilling capabilities. Because of its advanced technology, Deepwater
Horizon was able to drill deeper than just about any underwater rig that had ever been
built. It could operate in water as deep as 8,000
feet, which is about 2.5 kilometers; it had an estimated maximum drill depth of 30,000
feet, or about nine kilometers. Few other rigs in existence could even come
close to that. On more than one occasion, industry experts
described it as one of the most powerful rigs in the world. For the decade that Deepwater Horizon was
in use, it made BP a lot of money. It worked in the Thunder Horse oil field,
which is about 150 miles south of New Orleans; it also worked at the Atlantis Site, which
is the third largest oil field in the Gulf. Five years into its life cycle, Deepwater
Horizon discovered the massive Kaskida oil field in Keathley Canyon, which experts believe
to contain roughly three billion barrels of oil. Because it discovered the field, BP owns a
70 percent stake, which has a current market capitalization north of $40 billion US dollars. Not too long after discovering Kaskida, BP
and Deepwater Horizon were at the center of an even bigger find: the Tiber Oil Field,
expected to contain four to six billion barrels of oil. That $40 billion that BP had just found? This field could be worth twice that. So in the middle of 2009, 41 miles from the
coast of Louisiana, BP began preparing to drill one of the deepest underground wells
in the history of the world, knowing that a massive fortune was waiting for them under the surface of the sea. Cursed Oil BP tried to begin drilling in the Tiber Field
in the fall of 2009 with a rig called the Transocean Marianas, but it was damaged by
Hurricane Ida in November, and the project was delayed. Deepwater Horizon was scheduled to take over
when the calendar flipped to 2010. By the time Deepwater Horizon was in position
to resume drilling the Tiber, the exploratory site had been given a name. BP had run a contest among its employees as
part of a United Way campaign, asking for recommendations on what to name the first
well site inside the Tiber Oil Field. The entry they selected? The Macondo Prospect, named after the cursed
town in the novel One Hundred Years of Solitude. Even by Deepwater Horizon’s best-in-the-world
standards, Macondo was an impressive undertaking. The original well that Deepwater Horizon drilled
for core samples in 2009 was in 4,130 feet of water, and it drilled through another 31,000
feet of Earth below that. In total, the well had a measured depth of
35,055 feet. It was the deepest well in the history of
the world – so deep, that if you were to run a 10K down through the Earth, starting
at the surface and running toward the Earth’s core, you would reach the end of the race
before you would reach the bottom of the well. On the first day that Deepwater Horizon began
drilling at Macondo, in February 2010, the project was already behind schedule. As a result, the team working the drill was
pushing the pace, trying to make up for time lost to the hurricane and the holidays. BP instructed the crew to cut some corners
– for example, they were asked to speed up the installation of the well’s concrete
frame by introducing nitrogen. The concrete would set faster, but at the
expense of some structural integrity. In March, the crew began to ignore warning
signs that something was wrong for fear of being penalized for not keeping the project
on schedule. The blowout prevention equipment began leaking
fluid. Gaseous pressure from underneath the seabed
was higher than normal – methane had escaped through the well on more than one occasion,
and the drill would sometimes experience some kickback, sending shockwaves all the way up
through the rig above water. As the calendar inched into April, the problems
got even more serious. One incident damaged the blowout preventer,
but for some reason, it was never officially documented. A memo suggests that there were serious issues
with the viability of the cement. An email from a BP executive stated that Deepwater
Horizon may need to completely plug back the well. Instead of taking a conservative approach,
BP continued to accept the risks and carry on toward the multi-billion dollar oil reserve
as fast as possible. As BP neared the end of April, the exploratory
well was just a few more days from being completed. On April 20, 2010, there was mounting data
that gas was bubbling into the well – one of the clearest and most obvious signs of
a potential blowout. But the project was five weeks behind schedule,
and the crew on board didn’t want to do anything dramatic. On top of that, BP Vice President of Drilling
Patrick O’Bryan was scheduled to helicopter out to Deepwater Horizon at supper time for
a small party. O’Bryan wanted to congratulate the crew
for seven full years of operation without a lost-time incident. About two hours after O’Bryan’s arrival,
pressure inside the rig’s drill hit a critical point. The drill experienced a massive blowout, spewing
oil and mud thousands of feet up and into the rig. Soon after, with the well containment breached,
methane gas that was trapped underground throttled upward. The Methane ignited, and Deepwater Horizon
exploded in a massive fireball. There were 126 people on board at the time. The explosion , and the chaos that resulted
immediately afterward, killed 11 people. Many of the rest found a way off the rig,
escaping it as it burned and sank into the ocean. The US Coast Guard conducted an extensive
search and rescue operation, and 17 people were evacuated by helicopter to trauma centers
in Alabama and Louisiana. A majority of the survivors were taken to
a nearby supply boat, the Damon Bankston, with no major injuries. They were interviewed by the coast guard for
several hours, before eventually being taken to a hotel in Kenner, Louisiana, where they
were given food, showers, and medical attention. By April 22, Deepwater Horizon had sank into
the Gulf of Mexico. It was found on the bottom of the seabed,
half a mile away. Beyond the cost in human lives, the Deepwater
Horizon incident quickly became the worst accidental oil spill ever. Just as a rig is supposed to contain contingencies
that prevent blowouts, like the one that wrecked Deepwater Horizon, they’re also supposed
to contain contingencies that seal the well in the event of an emergency. In a situation this bad, the final contingency
is something called a blind shear ram, which is designed to cut through the drill and cap
off the well all at once. At Deepwater Horizon, that contingency failed,
leaving oil seeping into the Gulf of Mexico. The spill was discovered two days after the
explosion, when a large oil slick appeared at the original site of the rig. Recall that the Macondo Prospect – the site
named for a cursed town – was one block of a massive oil field, holding hundreds of
millions of barrels of oil. BP projected that the well began to leak 1,000
gallons of oil into the gulf every day; analysis by the US government eventually determined
that the initial leak rate was more like 60,000. It took 87 days for BP to cap the well. BP and its partners had to manually seal the
well with remotely controlled underwater robots that could approach and plug the hole they
had drilled in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. BP constructed a series of relief wells to
control the flow; the remainder of the Macondo Prospect is considered dead and inaccessible. In total, the Deepwater Horizon incident was
responsible for 210 million gallons of spilt oil – nearly 20 times worse than the wreck
of the 1989 Exxon Valdez. It killed tens of thousands of animals, sickened
hundreds of Americans that lived on the Gulf shore, wasted a trove of non-renewable resources,
and cost the United States billions of dollars to clean up. ‘The World’s Most Predictable Emergency’ After a disaster of this scale, two things
are pretty much guaranteed: investigations and lawsuits. BP, Transocean, and the US government all
conducted massive internal inquiries into how something like this could have happened,
with predictable results. There were fundamental engineering problems
around the construction of the well; the waterproof cement was ineffective; rig operators failed
to monitor and correctly interpret key data in the hours before the blowout; failsafes
and contingencies did not work as designed. A US Congressional investigation determined
that BP made a number of risky decisions during the Deepwater Horizon incident that were specifically
designed to save time and money, at the cost of ignoring safety regulations. At times, the company appears to have ignored
the advice of their own engineers. This backed up an earlier revelation from
rig owner Transocean – in the week before the explosion, Transocean conducted an anonymous
survey of Deepwater Horizon staffers and discovered that many workers feared that they would face
reprisals or punishments for raising concerns after operational safety. The report draws directly from worker feedback,
concluding that “drilling priorities were taking precedence over maintenance.” In some instances, workers were even entering
fake data to maintain the veneer of safety. While investigations were playing out, both
in the government and in the media, BP CEO Tony Hayward actually managed to make things
worse. Hayward badly mangled a series of public statements
in the weeks after the spill, earning himself an appearance on the American TV satire South
Park. Ultimately, his apologies mattered very little
in the United States, as BP’s reputation was completely annihilated by Deepwater Horizon. He was replaced as CEO on October 1, five
and half months after the explosion. In the end, everyone involved faced massive
financial penalties. BP paid more than $20 billion dollars, including
$8 billion for natural resource damage. Transocean paid $1.4 billion dollars in a
fine tied to the US Clean Water Act, but received an insurance settlement for the wreck of Deepwater
Horizon that was north of $500 million dollars. Haliburton, the contractor responsible for
creating the cement, paid $1.1 billion dollars into a trust that was dispersed to multiple
parties. Naturally, when something huge like this happens
in the 21st century, there’s a great influx of documentary porn. Every American with a liberal arts degree
and an iPhone-4 released some kind of video investigation, cataloguing the sublime hazards
of what can happen if you poke a hole in the bottom of the world without proper precautions. There was The Big Fix, The Great Invisible,
Pretty Slick, After the Spill, Dispatches from the Gulf, and my personal favorite, BP:
In Deep Water. Even more interesting than the documentaries
were the dramas. Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, who wrote A Few
Good Men and The Social Network and a bunch of other stuff your one friend won’t shut
up about, wrapped a great deal of his pilot for HBO’s The Newsroom around the events
of Deepwater Horizon. You may have seen the opening seven minutes
of the show shared on social media, where actor Jeff Daniels gives a blistering seven-minute
monologue about how America is no longer the greatest country in the world; most of the
rest of the episode, believe it or not, is actually about Deepwater Horizon. That show premiered in 2012, 26 months after
the event, and the episode follows a team of young reporters through a complicated day
in their fictional newsroom. The characters debate whether or not their
coverage should focus on the search and rescue missions, or the potential negligence that
may have led to the event in the first place. Later, when it becomes clear that the underwater
well can’t be cemented shut, Jeff Daniels’ character asks a US official why no one seems
to have the technology to prevent the world’s most predictable emergency. Four years after it showed up on HBO, Hollywood
completed the cycle with a big-budget feature film. Few things are more American than dramatizing
a tragedy after enough time has passed, which is how Mark Wahlberg ended up as the star
of the 2016 film Deepwater Horizon – a based-on-a-true-story account of the explosion that raked in $121
million internationally. The movie focuses on three rig workers – played
by Wahlberg, Kurt Russell, and Gina Rodriguez – as they try to save as many people as
they can following the blowout. Deepwater Horizon, the film, makes a clear
point about the cost of greed and dehumanized corporate perspectives, but it’s less a
lecture on people-over-profits than it is a testament to the bravery and quick thinking
that many of the real-life crew members had to exhibit in April of 2010. It’s an unsurprisingly formula, given that
director Peter Berg also directed The Kingdom, Lone Survivor, and Patriots Day. And maybe Berg’s decision to center his
story on heroism, rather than homily, is the only good way to tell a story like this. Ask any group of school-age children, and
they’ll be able to tell you that hurting people for money is wrong; it seems that toddlers
and business executives are the only two groups of people that need to be continuously reminded
of this. A hundred-million dollar lecture on safety
might seem overly obtuse, though, so as an alternative, Deepwater Horizon shows us both
extremes of the human condition: the caustic greed that rains chaos on innocent bystanders,
yes, but also the bravery and selflessness that humanity can summon in its deepest despairs
and darkest hours. Perhaps Berg was right to focus on the positives. As historians, though, we have a different
calling: reflect on our mistakes, so that we might avoid making them again. Ten years after an explosion that killed 11
Americans and affected countless people, animals, and businesses, we would do well to remember
the bloody greed that sprang up from the cavernous reaches underneath the Gulf of Mexico. Deepwater Horizon is unlikely to be the last
man-made disaster to ever stain our shores, but with grounded priorities and effective
regulation, it might just be the last unnecessary one.
