Another National Power Outage in Cuba Was Barely News
The Guiteras thermoelectric plant did it again
HAVANA TIMES – It sounds like the script of a low-budget science fiction movie: a false signal of overheated steam—something that doesn’t even make logical sense—is enough to plunge an entire country into darkness. But no, this isn’t the plot of a grade-Z film. It’s the energy reality of Cuba, a place where technical progress seems to have frozen in the 1950s, precisely when the boilers still in use today—the heart, and nightmare, of the system—were invented.
It sounds like fantasy, but it was enough for something like this to happen in a boiler last Wednesday, triggering the automatic shutdown of the Antonio Guiteras Thermoelectric Plant in the western Cuban province of Matanzas, and inevitably, tragically, unleashing the total collapse of Cuba’s National Electric System (SEN).
In other words, an electronic device, probably installed back when floppy disks were still in use, caused the automatic scheme of the boiler to disarm and the thermal block to disconnect, according to specialists consulted (by the state press, not the independent media).
The disconnection was immediate, but no one could say when the plant could be reconnected to the SEN. It took more than 24 hours, since external energy was needed to restart operations, and that process depends on system stability in other regions.
In short, a disaster that demonstrates the fragility of a system that, in theory, is designed to work in isolated segments, but in practice, a small problem anywhere can shut down the entire country. Once again, 11 million people wondering whether they live in 2025 or in 1825.
The same thing happened this March, when a small substation in Havana dragged all the others down with it and left Cuba in darkness for over 48 hours.
According to Guiteras engineers, the false signal in the automatic system that triggered the plant’s shutdown (which provides around 200 MW) has been fixed. But we’re really on edge, because judging from what we’ve seen, if a lightbulb goes out in Matanzas, even Jose Marti’s tomb in Santiago de Cuba goes dark.
It’s clear that the Union Electrica state power company is starting to look more like a team of firefighters trying to put out blazes with water pistols.
With great solemnity, they announced that at 9:14 a.m. on Wednesday there was a “total collapse of the National Electrical System,” but to us it felt as if they’d said: “It rained this morning.”
Almost immediately after, the Ministry of Tourism told us that tourists could rest assured, because hotels have generators. After all, the crucial thing is that they don’t suffer. We, on the other hand, can continue enjoying candles and family conversations like in the 19th century. It’s part of the island’s “authentic charm” and folklore, isn’t it?
This is the fifth time in less than a year. Aren’t modern electrical systems supposed to collapse once a decade, and only if there’s a category 5 hurricane or an alien invasion? Here, all it takes is for a sensor to have a bad day, because there was never a Plan B—or even a Plan A.
Of the five total collapses, three were triggered by the Guiteras plant, and two—including this one—were caused by an “automatic trip,” a clear sign that something must urgently be done so that the technology tells the truth and doesn’t get fooled by smoke signals.
We’ve seen record outages of over 2,000 MW in recent months at the power plants, and blackouts lasting more than 20 hours in various Cuban towns have become routine.
Let’s not forget that this latest episode came only three days after another blackout that plunged the eastern part of the country into darkness, caused by a fault in a 220 kV line between Nuevitas and Las Tunas.
So far, the solution is always the same: assemble “microsystems”—a word that sounds very high-tech but really means “connect the few things that still work”—and prioritize hospitals and water pumping stations. What no one knows is how long it takes.
We keep betting on solar parks, which would provide 1,200 MW once fully installed (only 29 out of 55 are complete), while the system needs 3,500 MW to function. And besides, solar energy is useless without grid stability. In other words, solar panels are like owning a Ferrari without gasoline: pretty, but useless in a blackout, since apparently, they don’t have the necessary battery systems to store energy.
Meanwhile, the designated—not elected—president tours Asia in search of investments, but this quest remains in diapers.
By the way, right nearby, Nepal was experiencing a national revolt that, within 48 hours, toppled its entire political system, triggered by a government measure to block social networks in order to silence constant corruption scandals at the top levels of government.
Coincidentally, we didn’t even find out here because of the nationwide blackout (and its impact on communications). But I won’t get suspicious; I don’t know if leaving us in the dark is worse than leaving us uninformed.
In the end, it was the phantom steam that defeated a nation. Not the title of a drama, but the day-to-day life of a country that deserves more than patches and excuses. But hey, at least the hotels had power.