It wasn’t surprising when a K Ingleside train lurched to a stop moments after leaving Castro Station one Friday last month. Delays are a fact of life. But for Stephen Martin-Pinto, being told to step into the dimly lit subway tunnel and walk a mile down the tracks was new.
The 46-year-old firefighter was returning home in a two-car train with about 50 passengers when, as the San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency would tell state regulators, “the overhead power feeder was reported open and then closed.” In other words, the train died.
Apparently, an object on top of the train shorted out the system, a city official who was briefed on the matter later told Martin-Pinto. Electricity arced, sparks flew, the tunnel filled with smoke, and the power went out.
Moments later, the train’s batteries kicked in, and the lights came back on. The operator soon announced that a rescue train would pick up the passengers. But after 16 minutes, the operator came on again to announce a change of plans — the system had shorted out, after all — and told the passengers they could exit the train. The majority did. For Martin-Pinto, this is when serious safety questions began cropping up.
Although the smoke began to clear, the tunnel was “poorly lit and full of trip hazards,” Martin-Pinto said.
The train is supposed to lower hydraulic steps at non-subway platforms. But in the middle of the Twin Peaks Tunnel, the steps didn’t lower. Martin-Pinto says riders had to jump or climb down three or four feet to the gravel of the trackway. (The SFMTA didn’t say why the steps weren’t lowered or answer questions about the emergency response procedures.)
The operator directed the passengers to walk to Forest Hill Station — about a mile away and more than twice as far as Castro Station.
One of the SFMTA’s mobile response units went to the scene and found no damage to the overhead wires or reports of injuries. The passengers who could walk made it to the station; eight others took the rescue train, SFMTA told regulators.
So what stopped the K Ingleside in its track?
Vandalism?
Initially, the transportation agency said it was a mechanical issue with the overhead power system — a once-common problem that has decreased in the past five years.
But no. It was something much simpler — and handheld. A few days later, Martin-Pinto asked the San Francisco Fire Department’s Transit Committee to take up the incident and learned what had shorted out the train: a regular aluminum can. Someone had thrown a can from the platform. Martin-Pinto wasn’t told exactly what kind it was — “a soda or beer can.” Whatever it was had exploded.
The agency described it as vandalism; despite that, it has not filed a police report. When asked whether disabling a train is as easy as throwing a can, SFMTA spokesperson Michael Roccaforte said no.
“This does not indicate a design flaw in our [light-rail vehicle] fleet, as the damage that was caused by this instance of vandalism was very rare, would be extremely difficult to re-create and [carries] a minimal possibility of having it stop a train again,” he said. “Interference like this is why we take precautions during major city events to ensure public safety first and help preserve the system.”
Roccaforte said he wouldn’t discuss plans to prevent future can-tastrophes because the agency is treating the incident as a security issue. “We count on customers treating our system, vehicles and each other with respect to provide the service San Francisco deserves,” he said.
The agency shared details of the incident with police, the Transportation Security Administration and the Transportation Security Operations Center.
Gerald Cauthen, who was Muni’s representative during the construction of the BART-Muni Metro subway in the 1980s, said SFMTA can’t be blamed for the alleged vandalism. “A streetcar operating in an open track or in a tunnel — or, for that matter, anywhere — is vulnerable,” he said. “Vandals can cause a lot of damage in this world, and it shouldn’t be tolerated.”
But what could stop future vandals from throwing future cans? Cauthen, a leader in the Bay Area Transportation Working Group, said there may be a way to discourage such acts, possibly by adding a screen or baffle to deflect objects hurled at the pantograph, the device that connects to overhead wires.
Cauthen called the incident “a good wake-up call” for SFMTA. “Tighten up. You put your riders in jeopardy,” he said.
‘A bigger incident than people realize’
Martin-Pinto was less concerned by how little it took to disable the train than he was by what followed. He was particularly disturbed by the direction to take the longer route to safety and the exposure to smoke.
“As a firefighter, I think about this stuff all the time,” Martin-Pinto said. (He made it clear he was speaking for himself and not as a representative of SFFD.) “This is a bigger incident than people realize. What if there had been a fire?”
The 2.3-mile Twin Peaks Tunnel opened in 1917, cutting travel times between downtown and the southwestern neighborhoods. In the early 1980s, it was integrated into the Muni Metro subway beneath Market Street.
The tunnel lacks modern safety amenities. Although it has an under-car sprinkler system, emergency water hookups every 300 feet and other features, it’s narrow and doesn’t have an emergency passageway like the one in the newly built Central Subway.
SFFD’s Transit Committee is examining the incident with SFMTA.
“We did not respond to this incident but were made aware by a member of the community, as well as the potential safety concerns, and are working collaboratively with SFMTA on this issue,” Capt. Jonathan Baxter said.
The office of Mayor London Breed also got involved.
“The mayor’s office has been in communication with SFMTA about this incident, and we are currently reviewing details to understand what happened and inform next steps,” a spokesperson said.
Despite all the tunnel drama, the SFMTA said things went according to plan.
“The operator of the vehicle followed protocol and shared updates with passengers while a rescue vehicle was dispatched,” Roccaforte said.
Martin-Pinto isn’t reassured.
“It seemed to me they didn’t have an emergency plan, or if there was one, the operators or supervisors didn’t know it,” he said. “Based on the casualness of their response, it doesn’t give me a lot of faith should there be a serious emergency.”
Correction: Stephen Martin-Pinto’s age is 46, not 42.