THE NEW NORTH

HAMMERFEST USED TO BE A FISHING VILLAGE. NOW IT'S HOME TO THE LARGEST GAS LIQUEFACTION PLANT IN EUROPE.

Past and future stand side by side in Hammerfest. The past is made of polished marble, crowned with a globe of bronze: The “Meridian Monument” marks the northern limit of the 19th century survey to measure the earth. 150 years ago this tiny fishing port was at the end of the world. Whereas the future burns bright on the small island of Melkøya, just offshore: The gas flare at the liquefied natural gas plant has become the new symbol of Hammerfest.

Less than ten years have passed since Melkøya provided brief summer grazing for a few sheep. Codfish were hung out to dry in the sun. Then, in the summer of 2002, the Norwegian energy conglomerate Statoil came to Hammerfest with 3,000 workers from 40 countries to build the giant gas liquefaction plant. Camps were set up outside of town, even cruise liners were leased to accommodate all the specialists needed to tap a major source of energy for the future: a quarter of the world’s oil and gas reserves are believed to lie beneath the Arctic Ocean.

The gas liquefaction plant off the coast of Hammerfest is the first step towards exploiting these reserves. The island of Melkøya is now home to gas tanks the size of apartment blocks, holding up to 370,000 cubic meters of liquefied gas—the product of the crude natural gas extracted 140 kilometers away in the Barents Sea. The gas is tapped with the aid of what are called subsea templates. These are fully automated wellheads submerged to the seabed that extract the gas from deep below and direct it into the pipelines that lead to Melkøya. Some 13,000 tons are processed every day at the island plant and liquefied at temperatures of minus 163 degrees Celsius. Development is just beginning, with only the “Snøhvit” and “Albatross” gas fields tapped so far.

A third field called “Askeladd” will come on stream in 2014. A fourth, “Tornerose,” is just now being explored. If the gas reserves there are equally bountiful, the liquefaction plant will double in size.

CLEAN IMAGE
In liquefied form, the gas is reduced to one six hundredth of its original volume. It is this property that allows it to be shipped as far as the USA. The industry is profiting from concerns about climate change. Natural gas causes significantly fewer carbon dioxide emissions than coal or oil. In Hammerfest the CO₂ released during liquefaction is even pumped back beneath the seabed, 700,000 tons of it each year. This clean image is one of the reasons gas consumption is growing worldwide. According to a study by corporate consultants A. T. Kearney, between now and 2030 the proportion of liquid gas will grow by an average of six percent per year. The Arctic reserves will play a major part in this development.

FACEMASKS AGAINST FROSTBITE
Standing in the shadow of the giant tanks, Kjetil Kvamme, 36, pulls the zip of his down jacket up to his chin. He was born in Hammerfest. As a student he went to university in Bodø, but he yearned to return home. “When I walk around the plant, it still fascinates me,” says Kvamme. Today he is one of the safety managers. His employer is BIS Industrier, a Norwegian subsidiary of Bilfinger Berger, charged with maintaining and insulating the thousands of meters of pipes required to produce liquefied gas.

Many of the pipelines are out in the open, exposed to the aggressive effects of wind and saltwater. Working on them, particularly up on the 65-meter tall “cold box” exposed on all sides, is not for the faint-hearted. Thanks to the Gulf Stream, temperatures in Hammerfest rarely fall below minus ten degrees. But when the wind blows it feels more like minus 40. The workers wear masks to protect their faces from frostbite.

The pipes are also thickly wrapped — the liquefied gas inside is chilled to minus 163 degrees Celsius. To maintain such temperatures, BIS Industrier clads the pipes and valves with multiple layers of different insulating materials— a science in itself.

OUT WITH THE FISH FACTORY, IN WITH THE CULTURE CENTER
“When it’s cold and the wind is whistling around you, your concentration fades,” says Kjetil Kvamme. “That is dangerous, especially for our scaffolders who sometimes work at dangerous heights and in places that are hard to reach.” One of their most important skills is their ability to accurately estimate their own limitations. Which is why Kjetil trains his people in rescuing colleagues in distress. “Our target is to get an accident victim to safety within five minutes, anywhere in the plant,” Kjetil Kvamme explains. Fortunately his rescue team have so far only ever had to turn out for exercises: In three and a half years and around three million working hours, apart from a few scratches, there has not been a single accident.

BIS Industrier has 70 workers permanently employed on the island. In spring when the plant undergoes a thorough inspection, the number increases to around 250. Most of them work two weeks on, three weeks off, flying home to their families in southern Scandinavia. It’s a life lived between two worlds. But for many of them the lengthy commute may soon come to an end, as Hammerfest is quite evidently growing in attraction as a place to live. “When the plant was built, we had 9,000 inhabitants,” says mayor Alf Jakobsen. “Now there are already 10,000.” Restaurants, hotels, shops, taxi firms: Every job on Melkøya means more than one new job on the mainland. What’s more, Statoil is paying the equivalent of around 20 million euros into the town’s coffers in property tax. The community has already invested in a new school and a new kindergarten. The last fish factory down by the quayside has been replaced by the “House of Culture”—an imposing glass structure with a cinema, theater, music and art school. The streets are currently being dug up to make way for new water pipes. Mayor Jakobsen’s next project is to heat the sidewalks.

A LIFE BETWEEN REINDEER AND GAS PLANT
The little town is becoming increasingly attractive. Eirihn Keüer, who was born in Hammerfest and grew up there, has a story to tell. As a 17-year-old she won a scholarship to train as a dancer in St. Petersburg. “I just had to get out of here,” she says. Ten years later, in 2009, she received an offer from mayor Jakobsen to come back and run a dance school in the newly inaugurated House of Culture. She accepted. “To start with I had 15 students,” she recalls. “Now there are 150.” Unlike dance teacher Eirihn, BIS manager Kjetil Kvamme always knew that he would come back home after leaving university. “On the other hand, I was worried whether my wife would be happy here.” When they first visited Hammerfest together, it seemed unlikely: “It was the middle of winter, the snow was piled roof-high in the streets, and then the car broke down,” Kjetil remembers.

Now, twelve years later, his wife Grete could not imagine a better home for her family of five. The kindergarten, school, office—most everything is just a stone’s throw away. In summer reindeer sun themselves on the roadsides, and in winter the children go ice fishing or sledding. The Kvammes recently built themselves a house with floorto- ceiling windows that offer a magnificent view of the bay. “This place is ideal,” says Grete Kvamme, “apart from the darkness in the winter months.” From November to January the people of Hammerfest don’t see the sun. Only the gas flare on Melkøya island casts a comforting light.

Text: Mathias Becker, Photos: Eric Vazzoler
Bilfinger Berger Magazine 2/2011