INSIDE the famous Dounreay dome, the champagne flowed. It was 10:52am on Saturday 14 November 1959, a moment that made history and, in the words of the site director, Dr Robert Hurst, turned the eyes of the world to the Caithness plant.
The atomic age had arrived in Scotland, the experimental Dounreay Fast Reactor (DFR) had reached criticality, demonstrating that it was an active means of producing energy.
Its scientists and engineers had stolen the lead in the global development of nuclear power.
The design committee for a British fast reactor was set up in 1951 and its vision had become a reality eight years later. Drawing a parallel with President Kennedy's ambition in 1961 to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, Mike Brown, decommissioning manager at DFR, said what was achieved in Caithness was comparable.
"What Britain did in the 1950s was every bit as impressive, if not more so, than what Nasa did in the 1960s. This was Britain's man-on-the-moon moment, if not better. From the creation of a design committee in 1951, Britain had delivered a working fast reactor by the end of the decade, without the full facts in their possession. That knowledge only came with the experimentation.
"Putting a man on the moon was the next step in a rocket programme that was already into space. Designing, building and operating a fast reactor from scratch, at a time when the knowledge was scarce, I believe was an even bigger accomplishment."
Half a century on and attention is again focused on the iconic, sphere-shaped building as efforts continue on what the pioneering workers, revered for their skills and ingenuity in building and fitting out the reactor gave little thought to: that it may eventually have to be knocked down.
The discovery of nuclear energy was seen as a way of producing more electricity to rebuild the British economy after the Second World War. Scientists persuaded the government they could generate electricity from a new type of reactor that would not jeopardise the development of nuclear weapons.
The fast breeder reactor would convert an unusable form of uranium to plutonium that could by recycled and turned into new reactor fuel. In other words, it would "breed" its own fuel, offering the prospect of electricity in abundance.
Agricultural land next to a disused wartime airfield in Caithness was chosen to test the reactor.
The project advanced with what now seems impossible haste. The announcement to site an experimental atomic power station was made on 1 March, 1954; UKAEA's application was lodged with Caithness County Council on 16 November and it granted permission two days later.
The construction changed the geographical and social landscape of the far north. More than 3,000 men – equivalent to the population of Thurso at the time – were employed building the site.
UKAEA responded by building more than 1,000 houses and the council built a similar number as well as two primary schools and a secondary.
One of the new Dounreay workers was Willie Munro, a former farm worker from Wick, who later earned a place in history and, at the age of 39, a new nickname.
Mr Munro became a chargehand process worker and loaded the final uranium rod into the fast reactor as it reached criticality. From then on he was known to everyone as Willie Starter.
His son Brian later joined the first intake of a scientific training scheme started by UKAEA in 1965 and worked at the site for 41 years. He said: "I was ten at the time (of the plant going critical] and only became aware later of its significance.
"But I remember dad coming home and saying 'we've cracked it' or words to that effect. I'm very proud of the role my family played in the fast reactor story."
Alistair Fraser was working on the construction camps at the time and later also joined the Dounreay workforce. He said: "
My memory of it is not so much the rector going critical but one newspaper referring to the wonderful juxtaposition of a worker coming from an ancient industry starting up one of the most modern industries."
Jonathon Kirk, now 88, was an assistant operations manager in DFR in 1959 and recalls a crowd of about 20-30 people, including visiting American and Japanese scientists, in the control room on the historic day.
"It's hard to put into words what we felt at the time. I just said 'we've done it'. We were learning all the way and it definitely felt like we were pioneering."
He added: "I don't think it occurred to me that it would have to come down."
But that is exactly the job now facing today's Dounreay workforce.
FUTURE OF THE FAST REACTOR LOOKS LIKE BEING DEMOLITION
THE future of the Dounreay Fast Reactor could be decided by next summer, with it likely it be demolished as part of the site clean-up.
A consultation will get under way next month on possible options for the building but the cost of its upkeep is expected to be a stumbling block to its retention.
If it were to be kept it would cost several millions of pounds to decontaminate and about £100,000 a year to maintain.
In addition, painting the spherical landmark costs £500,000 every ten years.
It makes the possibility of using the cleaned-out reactor building for a museum, or even as a hotel or observatory as has been suggested, remote.
The dome's future forms part of a heritage strategy being drawn up by consultants Atkins, which will look at the impact Dounreay has had in a local, national and international context, and include ideas on how to preserve facilities and artefacts of potential historical significance.
Doug Graham, Dounreay's environmental team leader, said the long-term cost, safety and heritage value of the building will all be considered in the final decision.
"Whilst we have taken a neutral stance, we have to highlight the issues.
"One of these is that it is costly and someone has to come forward to pay for it." Historic Scotland said it cannot comment on the strategy but a spokeswoman said: "Dounreay is of great interest particularly in terms of the role it has played in the development of nuclear technology and the site is certainly iconic for many."
