BP well is dead, but challenges remain

The "nightmare well" is dead. But the Gulf coast's bad dream is far from over.

Federal officials declared Sunday that the well where the Deepwater Horizon rig exploded had finally been killed. Workers drilled a relief well into the damaged one and drove a cement stake deep into its oily, black heart.

On April 20, an explosion on the rig -- which had drilled the well and was in the process of capping it -- killed 11 men instantly and started a slow-motion disaster that has jeopardized the livelihoods of legions of fishermen, hotel and restaurant workers, drilling employees and others.

In the three months before a temporary cap stemmed the flow from the blown-out well, as much as 172 million gallons of oil and millions of cubic feet of natural gas spewed into Gulf waters.

For those most directly affected by the spill -- the ones who still await BP checks for lost wages and revenue, who live on beaches where oil mats are just now coming ashore -- the feeling of helplessness remains raw, like a freshly stitched wound.

FILE - In this June 4, 2010 file photo, a clean-up worker picks up an absorbent snare filled with oil on Queen Bess Island at the mouth of Barataria Bay near the Gulf of Mexico in Plaquemines Parish, La. Retired Coast Guard Adm. Thad Allen, the federal government's point man on the disaster, said Sunday, Sept. 19, 2010, BP's well "is effectively dead." A permanent cement plug sealed BP's well nearly 2.5 miles below the sea floor in the Gulf of Mexico, five agonizing months after an explosion sank a drilling rig and led to the worst offshore oil spill in U.S. history. (AP Photo/Gerald Herbert, File)

"If you had to live with all the uncertainty, for all those months," said Mike Helmer, a fishing guide out of Lafitte, La. "I can promise you it's not easy. And it's not over."

At the well's death, Associated Press reporters who covered the disaster checked in with scientists awaiting test results, with business and legal analysts seeking answers and resolutions, and with Gulf residents looking to an uncertain future.

Drilling for answers

Before the smoke even cleared, fingers of blame were pointing in many directions.

BP's internal investigation, released earlier this month, accused subcontractor Halliburton of improperly cementing the well. It blamed rig owner Transocean Ltd. for problems with the blowout preventer on the seafloor a mile down. It even pointed at itself, acknowledging that if the results of a critical pressure test had been correctly interpreted, workers would have known something was horribly wrong in time to do something about it.

While the company's report went a long way toward previewing its legal strategy and explaining how a bubble of explosive gas made a 3-mile-plus journey from the bottom of the well to the drilling rig, it left many questions unanswered.

Those questions will be addressed by government investigators, other companies' investigations, congressional committees and by examinations of key pieces of evidence plucked from the seafloor.

Some of those probes are looking specifically at factors BP downplayed -- including the company's well design.

The conclusions will help determine who is liable for the worst offshore oil spill in U.S. history, and what share of the blame -- and of the bill -- the various companies with ties to the rig and its equipment will be responsible for. Based on an upper estimate of the oil spilled, BP and others could be fined up to $5.4 billion for violating water pollution laws, or up to $21 billion if gross negligence is found.

To drill or not to drill?

One of the ironies of this disaster is that many of those hurt most by the spill find themselves having to defend the industry that caused it.

While acknowledging that we are only slightly better prepared to handle a big spill now than we were five months ago, Gulf state officials have joined oil interests in fighting a federal moratorium on deepwater drilling. A government report released Thursday says the ban may have temporarily cost 8,000 to 12,000 jobs on oil rigs and elsewhere.

The current ban on new deep-sea drilling is set to expire Nov. 30. But there is little doubt the oil and gas industry will face even tougher regulations afterward.

Immediately after the explosion, it became apparent that BP, the industry and the government were unprepared. There was no ready plan for capping a leak so deep underwater, and the cleanup and containment equipment had to be cobbled together.

The situation was unprecedented, industry and government officials told the public.

Gary Rook, technical director of Edison Chouest Offshore, whose vessels played a key role in the containment effort, says the industry needs to develop higher storage capacity for recovered oil, design and deploy more effective skimming boats and create a game plan that allows critical response assets to be deployed immediately after a disaster.

But Rook said some federal regulations -- such as the ones that limit the size of offshore response vessels -- also need to be revised.

"We need to get equal to the rest of the world," he said.

Retired Coast Guard Adm. Thad Allen, the government's point man on the BP spill response, says there also needs to be a re-evaluation of existing contingency plans. That should include a look at what people think about the role that responsible parties should have in the cleanup effort, and how much autonomy and flexibility state and local governments should have to act outside the national command structure. For instance, federal officials clashed with their counterparts in Louisiana over plans to build artificial barrier islands off the coast to block incoming oil.

Assessing the damage

On April 29, a mere nine days after the rig explosion, the Gulf's so-called Loop Current was at full strength, said Steve Murawski, chief fisheries scientist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Under those conditions, it had the potential to take any oil that got into its pinwheel-like effect and spin it into the Florida Keys and up the U.S. East Coast.

Then, just days later, a large eddy blocked the current and broke the Loop's back. The threat disappeared.

"This is the closest thing to an act of God that we've seen," Murawski said.

As the oil continued to gush, scientists and others feared a near-knockout blow to the Gulf's already stressed ecosystem. Early signs suggest that didn't happen.

In parts of Louisiana, some marshlands seem already to be recovering. The oil-munching microbes that scientists feared would create dead zones ultimately failed to reduce oxygen levels as severely as predicted.

Yes, oil continues to wash up in places, but the streaky surface sheens have all but vanished. And while nearly 6,600 dead birds, sea turtles and other animals were recovered, new victims are rarely found.

"I think the resiliency of the Gulf has been endorsed and exceeded even optimistic estimates," said George Crozier, director of the Dauphin Island Sea Lab in Alabama.

Scanning the horizon

Third-generation fisherman Byron Encalade is sick of body and of heart.

For the first season in as long as he can remember, the 56-year-old from Pointe A'La Hache, La., is not out shrimping. He's not out gathering oysters -- they're all dead. All of the drivers for the Delta family's Encalade Trucking and Fisheries have moved on to new jobs elsewhere.

"Emotionally, I have family that depends on me," says Encalade, a proud member of this primarily African-American community. "I've got one boat working for BP, and I've got about six families we're trying to take care of off that one boat. I got my share of responsibilities."

While large areas of commercial fishing grounds have been reopened, demand for Gulf seafood has tanked, and prices have plummeted. Tourists have slowly begun returning to the Gulf's white-sand beaches, but a summer's revenue have been lost.

While many have stayed afloat with claims checks and spill-related work from BP, some have lost their homes or laid off workers in a bid to make it through the winter. Helmer, the fishing guide, refused to work for the company he blames for his predicament.

Even with most of his competitors contracting with BP, paying charter bookings have been hard to come by.

"It'll be several years before I feel better," he said.

Like so many Gulf residents, Encalade spent some time in the oil industry. But he knew where he truly belonged.

"I always came back to fishing," he said. "That is the one thing we have lived our lives knowing: Well, I always got my bayous and my swamps and my bays, and I can go make a living."

The water, he says, was his "main source of independence." No longer.

"I can't even go catch myself a plate of food anymore."