Week 7: Chasing Bruce

7:45 AM: Ring, ring, ring. Blocked number.

(drowsily) “Hello, this is Cully”

(Exuberantly) “Cully, baby, aren’t you making the coffee yet? What are you good for?”

(Stunned) “Bruce?”

“You know it kid. I’m in Husavik. You have an interview with Husavik Energy at 2:30”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. You want to get involved? Find a way to get here. Soon.” Click.

That was basically my first contact with Bruce after not hearing from him for about two months. Bruce is a mentor and major player in the power plant development business; he rarely deigns to include me in his plans, but when he does, things get intense. Describing Bruce is a challenge because of his singularity. A sharper, sometimes serious version of Rodney Dangerfield from Caddy Shack might approximate him. He’s a playful and light character with a business edge that emerges suddenly when required.

Bruce builds power plants all over the world, and he’s very good at it. He runs a consultancy with a clientele described as “the rich and famous.” I’ve enjoyed hearing stories about George Soros and Australian billionaires. Bruce makes it rain, and he agreed to teach me how after I pursued him across America for one month, eventually waiting in New York for two weeks until he gave me the opportunity to come to his house (referred to as the magic cottage) for a five-hour interview and tutorial. That was several months ago, and I haven’t heard much from him since.

Bruce and his team of world-class engineers built the power plant here in Husavik, and now they are back to make some repairs. The opportunity seemed ripe for me to learn the inner workings of a power plant. However, this is no ordinary plant. It is the first of its kind. Early adoption is going down on the sleepy shores of Husavik, a small fishing village of 2,000 people on Iceland’s north coast. I’m here to learn what makes this plant, a Kalnia Cycle model 34 binary phase geothermal power plant, work.

Alexander Kalina, Russian èmigrè to America, invented Kalina Cycle technology for the explicit purpose of greater efficiency when utilizing low temperature resources for power generation. Thermodynamics always limit geothermal power plants, and I’ll simplify a complex issue by saying that cooler incoming water limits the amount of energy available for power production.

Kalina Cycle technology uses a new “working fluid” of ammonia and water to increase the energy available from low temperature resources by as much as 20-50% when compared to existing technologies. The technology’s advantages become more pronounced at lower temperatures, which is good news for the 120C brine pumped 20km to Husavik from a geothermal field to the south. Keep in mind that many geothermal plants in Iceland receive incoming temperatures of 240C or higher. Here is a photo from inside the plant at Husavik:

















After Bruce hung up, I sat in bed, dazed. Bruce agreed to mentor me, but then I didn’t hear from him for months. He said my first lesson would come in Iceland, but I didn’t know if he would actually show up to teach me anything about this business or the technology. Last Wednesday he did.

I packed my bags as fast as possible, then ran to ISOR for a last-minute PowerPoint presentation to educated the whole staff on how to use my map of Chile’s geothermal industry before I left town. I boarded the next bus for Husavik, and arrived to discover that Bruce didn’t have room for me in his car because of an important Danish visitor. I ran several miles to the power plant in order to see it for the first time. I ended up meeting with the local energy company the following morning, and after garnering their approval, I met the team of engineers that I will work with.

This month I’ll help evaluate equipment, check the functionality and condition of the plant’s components, and translate the control station (a massive array of screens, dials, knobs, and levers) from Icelandic to English. I’m also doing a bit of due diligence on a part of the plant that Bruce and his colleagues still don’t know if they want to buy. This should provide a hands-on way to learn how a power plant works.

Living in a town of 2,000 in northern Iceland might not sound very appealing to some of you, but just take a look at the view:
















I live with a Spanish girl who is studying to be a French-English-Spanish translator and works at a café in town. Another roommate is a Spanish-teaching, yoga-instructing, artist who grew up locally – she owns the house I’m living in. My third roomy is an Austrian whale-watching guide, who took me out Minke Whale watching yesterday.

















The town bustles with a diverse and international young crowd attracted by the whaling museum, whale research center, and various whale-related tourist businesses. Last night I attended a barbeque onboard a beautiful sailboat where I met 20-something-year-old characters from the following countries: Canada, Denmark, Netherlands, Iceland, Sweden, Spain, France, Germany, Estonia, and America:


















Also, there is a phallus museum… seriously:


















Bruce and his “cast of hundreds” left on Friday, and I had my first chance to explore Husavik and its outskirts. I climbed a mountain directly behind Husavik, intermittently following haggard sheep trails and breaking my own trail through the waist-high underbrush. I reached the summit at noon, and got my first look at the arctic cycle lying just north of Husavik's shores. I snacked on cheese and bread, then dropped off the back of the mountain.

I ran out of water while tramping around, and felt a bit worried when I became lost at one point. Eventually I emerged over a knoll and found myself in some utopian geriatric berry-picking scene. I looked around at about twenty grey-haired Icelanders stooped over, collecting blueberries. I peered down, picked a berry, ate it, and replicated that process for about an hour. Yes, I spent my Saturday foraging about in the Icelandic heather and gnashing on succulent blue fruit.

































Occasionally I sat in the thick loamy cushion of berries and flowers (the seat of my Carhartts now stained various shades of purple) and contemplated my situation, the year ahead, my friends, family, girlfriend back home, and how much my life has changed in such a short time. I left home less than two months ago, and I feel worlds away from everything I’ve known for the last 23 years. I’ve already learned volumes, and I can look forward to learning so much more about energy, the world, and myself in the months to come.

I met a French girl who asked me if it's hard to spend so much time alone and away from my close relationships. I paused and said,"it is hard, and I do miss those people, but I'm becoming much closer with myself. You can't keep any secrets from yourself out here." The time and distance has given me so much time to think. It's the healthiest I've ever felt emotionally - the most secure.