| By
SCOTT HARRIS The Industry Standard
HUNTINGTON
BEACH, Calif. - Like giant robotic sunflowers, the machines
that Boeing engineer Kenneth Stone has tended for nearly
20 years awaken with the dawn.
Planted
in a sunny spot between a hangar and an office trailer on
a Boeing compound in this Southern California beach town,
these shimmering 50-foot-tall solar dishes tilt their mirrored
petals to the morning glow. Through the day, they slowly
pivot, tracking the sun's arc across the sky, capturing,
reflecting and focusing its rays to power an attached engine
that generates electricity.
In his
mind's eye, Stone sees vast, beautiful fields of solar dishes
sprouting in the deserts of the Southwest, converting sunlight
into electricity to power cities - without producing pollution,
without accelerating global warming.
Has
Stone been out in the sun too long? Not according to energy
experts.
"This
isn't some mad scientist's mad dream. This is real,"
says Terry Peterson, a solar market specialist with the
Electric Power Research Institute, a nonprofit research
institute funded by the power industry.
Solar
is on the brink of a breakthrough, its prospects brightening
as the nation's power crisis spurs investment in alternative
energy by municipalities, businesses and home owners. The
mayor of sunny San Diego, hit hard by soaring electricity
prices last summer, envisions the city's landfills covered
with "solar farms" that both harness the sun's
rays and burn landfill gasses.
Up the
coast, San Francisco's supervisors are proposing a $100
million solar bond to install photovoltaic panels on municipal
properties. Meanwhile, Fortune 500 powerhouses such as Bechtel,
Boeing and Scientific Applications International Corp. are
pursuing a more ambitious dream: bringing to market large-scale,
centralized solar power.
Demonstration
projects are already running or being developed in Arizona,
Nevada and Spain.
Stirling
Energy Systems, a company that owns the dish technology
that Boeing is helping to develop through a U.S. Department
of Energy contract, has struck deals with utilities in South
Africa and Spain for test projects. "We're optimistic,"
Boeing project manager Mike McDowell says of the technology
that Stone has nurtured. "We're trying to create a
market."
Stone's
specialty is Stirling dish technology, one promising branch
of the family of renewable "solar thermal" energy
sources. Although most people equate solar energy with rooftop
panels that produce modest levels of wattage to help heat
homes and run appliances, solar thermal technologies are
designed to provide power on an industrial scale.
An early-generation
"solar trough" thermal plant built in the 1980s
in the desert near Barstow, Calif., generates five times
the wattage produced by all the solar panels in the United
States. The system, which generates 354 megawatts - enough
to power about 350,000 homes - focuses the sun's rays to
heat tubes filled with a synthetic oil; the heated oil runs
steam turbines to produce electricity. Stirling dish technology
is even more efficient at converting the sun's energy into
electricity, according to a Department of Energy study.
Another
solar thermal technology, known as "power tower,"
is superior to the trough as well. While less efficient
than the Stirling dish in converting the sun's energy to
electricity, it possesses a storage system that stretches
power production beyond sunset. Bechtel subsidiary Nexant
is developing a massive power tower project in the Spanish
region of Andalucia. More than 1 square kilometer of mirrors
will focus the sun's rays to heat a tower filled with tubes
of molten salt. The heated salt stores energy that powers
electricity-producing generators.
So why
has the United States let these promising solar technologies
languish for two decades? The question is even more urgent
considering the international campaign to curb global warming
caused by the burning of fossil fuels. The answer lies in
the geopolitics of energy, the inconsistency of domestic
power policies and the economics of a volatile marketplace
in the throes of deregulation. Shifts in all these areas
will determine the fate of solar development.
Scientists
have recognized the potential of Stirling technology for
generations. The Stirling engine is an external combustion
engine, relying on heat to cause hydrogen to expand and
drive the pistons. Robert Stirling, a Scottish minister,
conceived of the closed-loop engine in the early 1800s as
an alternative to steam engines, which had a lethal habit
of blowing up. A French inventor later attached a solar
collector to a Stirling engine, according to Barry Butler,
a Scientific Applications International VP overseeing its
energy division.
Stirling
engines, he says, are now used in everything from submarines
to prototypes of artificial hearts used in animals. SAIC
has developed a hybrid Stirling dish that runs on sunlight
during the day and burns landfill gases at night to provide
power. The company is in discussions with San Diego about
constructing solar power plants on its landfills.
The
Stirling engine remains buggy, and maintenance is a concern,
experts say, but technological advances make engineers optimistic
about its prospects. The Stirling engine is "about
where the car engine was in the 1950s," Stone says.
"From a technology standpoint, I don't see anything
that would stop this. But so many political things have
stopped it before."
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