As kids, most of us got in trouble at some point for blowing through a straw into our nearly-empty drinks. What you see here is a consequence of such misbehavior, though in this case the fluid is silicone oil and the straw is a metal needle (not shown) through which helium is continuously injected beneath the liquid surface. Depending on the angle of the straw, different behaviors are observed, as seen in this video. The photo above shows an intermediate regime, in which tiny jets form at the surface and eject a stream of drops. Each drop sails in a little parabolic arc and briefly bounces on the surface, like the drops on the right, before coalescing into the pool. (Image credit: J. Bird and H. Stone; video)
Category: Research
Drawing With Microfluidic Tweezers
One of the challenges of dealing with objects at the microscale is finding ways to manipulate them. This is what techniques like optical tweezers or magnetic traps are used for. The downside to these methods is that they often require complex experimental set-ups or place restrictions on the kinds of particles that can be manipulated. Recently, however, researchers have developed a new hydrodynamic alternative: the Stokes trap.
Using a six-channel microfluidic device like the the ones shown in A) and B) above, scientists can alter the flow in the device in such a way that they trap and manipulate two particles at the same time. The simultaneous inflow and outflow in the device creates streamlines like those shown in C) and D) above. The large white areas where the streamlines converge and diverge are stagnation points–areas of little to no velocity. The scientists trap their particles at the stagnation points and then carefully shift the flow rates into and out of the device to move the stagnation points–with particles in tow–wherever they want them. In the animation, you can see part of a movie where they use the particles to write out a capital I (for University of Illinois). The researchers hope the technique will be used in the future for studying the physics of soft materials and biologically-relevant molecules like DNA. For more, check out the full paper or the group’s website. (Image credit and submission: C. Schroeder et al.)
Mushrooms Make Their Own Breeze
Plants and other non-motile organisms have developed some clever methods to disperse their seeds and spores for reproduction. Some plants use vortex rings for dispersal; others make their seeds aerodynamic. Low ground-dwellers like mushrooms must contend with a lack of wind to lift their spores and carry them away. Instead, they use evaporative cooling to generate their own air currents.
Mushroom caps contain a lot of water and, as that water evaporates, it cools air near the mushroom, just as sweat evaporating off your skin cools you. That cooler, denser air tends to spread, carrying the spores outward. At the same time, the freshly evaporated water vapor is less dense than the surrounding air, so it rises. This combination of rising and spreading is capable of carrying spores tens of centimeters into the air, where the wind is stronger and able to carry spores further. (Image credit: New Atlantis, source; research credit: E. Dressaire et al.)
Martian Viscous Flow
These images from the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter show what are called viscous flow features. They are the Martian equivalent of glacial flow. Such features are typically found in Mars’ mid-latitudes.
Ground-penetrating radar studies of Mars have shown that some of these features contain water ice covered in a protective layer of rock and dust, making them true glaciers. Another study of similar Martian surface features found that their slope was consistent with what could be produced by a ~10 m thick layer of ice and dust flowing superplastically over a timescale equal to the estimated age of the surface features. Superplastic flow occurs when solid matter is deformed well beyond its usual breaking point and is one of the common regimes for glacial ice flow on Earth. (Image credit: NASA/JPL/U. of Arizona; via beautifulmars)
Wrinkling Fluids
What you see here is a viscous drop falling into a less viscous fluid. Shear forces between the drop and the surrounding fluid cause the drop to quickly deform into a shape like an upside-down mushroom as it descends. The cap forms a vortex ring that curls the viscous fluid back on itself. As it does, that motion compresses the viscous sheet, causing it to wrinkle, as seen in the close-up in the bottom animation. Check out the full video here. (Image credit: E. Q. Li et al., source)
Singing Sand Dunes
Reports of singing sand dunes date at least as far back as 800 C.E. Strange as it sounds, about forty sites around the world have been associated with this phenomenon, in which avalanches of sand grains on the outer surface of the dune cause a deep, booming hum for up to several minutes. As you can hear in the video above, the sound of the dune is somewhat like a propeller-driven airplane. A leading explanation for this behavior is that it results not from the size or shape of the sand grains but from the structure of the underlying dune.
Measurements show that the booming sand dunes contain a hard packed layer of sand 1-2 meters below the surface. When sand at the surface is disturbed by the wind or sliding researchers, it creates vibrations. Those disturbances have trouble crossing into the air or into the harder layers below. Instead they resonate in the upper surface of the sand, which acts as a waveguide, reflecting and enhancing the sound, just as the body of a violin resonates to enhance the vibration of its strings. For more, check out this video from Caltech or the research paper linked below. (Video credit: N. Vriend; research credit: M. Hunt and N. Vriend, pdf)
Pyroclastic Flow
Major volcanic eruptions can be accompanied by pyroclastic flows, a mixture of rock and hot gases capable of burying entire cities, as happened in Pompeii when Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 C.E. For even larger eruptions, such as the one at Peach Spring Caldera some 18.8 million years ago, the pyroclastic flow can be powerful enough to move half-meter-sized blocks of rock more than 150 km from the epicenter. Through observations of these deposits, experiments like the one above, and modeling, researchers were able to deduce that the Peach Spring pyroclastic flow must have been quite dense and flowed at speeds between 5 – 20 m/s for 2.5 – 10 hours! Dense, relatively slow-moving pyroclastic flows can pick up large rocks (simulated in the experiment with large metal beads) both through shear and because their speed generates low pressure that lifts the rocks so that they get swept along by the current. (Image credit: O. Roche et al., source)
Rogue Wave Recreated
If you look online, the term “rogue wave” gets thrown around a lot – a whole lot. And most of the videos you see of “rogue waves”, “freak waves”, and “monster waves” are just, in fact, big waves. What makes a deep-water ocean wave a rogue, scientifically speaking, is that it is extreme compared to its surroundings. One definition requires that a rogue wave be more than twice as tall as the height of average large waves in the area – like the rogue that takes out the Lego boat above. Outside the lab, this is a rare event – fortunately – because a true rogue wave has tremendous destructive power and seems to appear out of the blue.
This seemingly unpredictable behavior is thought to arise from nonlinear interactions between waves. Essentially, under the right conditions, a rogue wave grows monstrously large by sucking energy out of other surrounding waves. One way to try and predict rogue waves is to measure all the waves nearby and simulate their potential nonlinear interactions computationally – but this is time-consuming and requires a lot of computing power.
Instead, researchers have developed an alternative method, illustrated in the time series above. Instead of considering the rogue potential for all waves, they identify waves with characteristics that make them more likely to go rogue and focus on simulating those waves. In the animation, the wave packets are colored from green to red based on their increasing likelihood of turning into rogue waves. The algorithm is simple enough to run quickly on a laptop and can provide a couple minutes of warning to a ship’s crew – enough time to batten down before the wave hits. (Image credits: simulation – T. Sapsis et al., source; experiment: N. Ahkmediev et al., source; via The Economist and MIT News; submitted by 1307phaezr)
Turbulent Convection
These golden lines reveal the complexity of turbulent convective flow. They come from a numerical simulation of turbulent Rayleigh-Benard convection, a situation in which fluid trapped between two plates is heated from below and cooled from above. This situation would typically create convection cells similar to those seen in clouds or when cooking. Inside these cells, warm fluid rises to the top, cools, and sinks down along the sides. With large enough temperature differences, instabilities will occur and cause the flow to become turbulent so that the clear structure of convection cells breaks down into something more chaotic. Such is the case in this simulation. This visualization shows skin friction on the bottom (heated) plate in a flow of turbulently convecting liquid mercury. The bright lines are areas with large velocity changes at the wall, an indication of high shear stress and vigorous convective flow. (Image credit: J. Scheel et al.; via Gizmodo)
Humans Running on Water
How fast does a speedster like The Flash or Dash Parr from The Incredibles have to go to run on water? As we saw from other water-walkers like the basilisk lizard and the western and Clark’s grebes, any large creature wanting to run on water needs to generate the necessary vertical impulse by hitting the water hard, pushing off against the cavity that creates, and pulling their foot up before the cavity collapses around it.
Using basilisk lizards as our guide, we can build a simplified hydrodynamic model (following Glasheen and McMahon and Minetti et al.) to describe this process and predict a speedster’s necessary speed. If we assume our runner removes their foot before the cavity collapses, we have a relatively simple relation to satisfy, namely: the vertical impulse from the slap combined with the vertical impulse from the push, or stroke, must equal or exceed the impulse from the runner’s weight:
(Impulse from slap) + (Impulse from stroke) >= Impulse from runner’s weight
The impulse from the runner’s weight is relatively straightforward. It depends on the runner’s mass, gravity, and the time it takes the runner to complete a step. The other two terms are a bit more complicated and require some approximations. One is that we’ll treat the runner’s foot like a circular disk – this makes it easier to figure out the drag while the runner pushes against the water. Ultimately, the model requires five variables (four, if we assume that we’re on Earth):
– the runner’s mass
– the area of the runner’s foot
– the depth the runner’s foot reaches underwater
– the time it takes the runner to take one step
– the acceleration due to gravityI will spare you the math, but I’ve created an online calculator (now with English or metric versions) with the model, so you can follow along with my math or play around with your own numbers.
Click through to see how fast a human has to go to run on water.
So how fast would The Flash have to run? Barry Allen is grown man, roughly 75 kg in mass, with a foot area of about 314 cm^2. We can assume that he pushes his leg about 0.15 m into the water with each step. The best human sprinters run with a step time of 0.2 – 0.26 seconds, but Barry’s a metahuman, so we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he can take a step in 0.15 seconds. (Let’s be honest, he’s probably capable of faster than that!)
To keep from sinking, The Flash would have to strike his feet against the water at about 37 m/s. It’s a little tough to say exactly how that would translate into forward speed. Both basilisks and grebes strike the water at a higher speed than their forward velocity. Since their feet are parallel to the surface when they strike, the slap phase only gives them vertical impulse. Their forward velocity comes from the stroke phase where they can push off against the water. This suggests that a runner who generates a lot of their vertical impulse during the slap phase will be able to get more forward velocity out of the stroke phase because they can afford to push forward off the cavity instead of mostly up. That’s consistent with what we observe in the lizards and grebes; the grebe gets more of its impulse from the slap and its forward velocity is a larger percentage of its foot impact velocity compared to the basilisk.
Using the lizards and birds as our guide, we can estimate that The Flash, who gets about 45% of his necessary vertical impulse from slapping, will have a forward velocity of about 27 m/s or 98 kph. That’s a lot faster than any human has ever run – Usain Bolt has managed about 44.7 kph – but it’s not that fast. In CW’s The Flash TV show, his team estimates that he must run 650 miles per hour, or 1050 kph, to run on water. That is way faster than necessary!
How about Dash Parr, though? Dash is about 10 years old, so he’s a lot smaller than Barry. That means he has less mass to keep afloat (about 32 kg), but it also means that he has smaller feet (154 cm^2) and shorter legs (0.1 m foot depth). For the same stride rate, that means that Dash has to hit the water at 47 m/s, about 25% faster than Barry. It also means that Dash gets a tad more oomph from his slap (~46%) and runs across the water at 128 kph, about 30% faster than Barry has to go.
That’s totally doable for a superhero, but what about us regular humans? Sadly, our large mass and small feet won’t let us run on water like The Flash or Dash, but there are ways to bend the rules. One is to reduce gravity – this was the subject of an Ig Nobel prize-winning study by Minetti et al. The researchers put fins on volunteers, suspended them from a harness to reduce their effective weight, and got them to run in place in a pool. They found that fin-augmented humans could run on water in gravity about 20% of Earth’s.
Another technique is to increase a runner’s effective foot area without making them bother to lift the foot out of the water. In essence, a human can run on water across over-sized lily pads. In their study, Lothman and Ruina accomplished this with plywood pads laid out in a pool. The pads were buoyant enough to stay afloat at the water surface but would sink if a person stood still on them. But by running quickly from one to the next, their test subject was able to successfully run across water.
So, there you have it: speedsters can run on water without breaking autobahn speed limits and the rest of us can cheat. Be sure to check out the online calculator and play with the model yourself. And join me tomorrow for my special webcast with Professor Tadd Truscott and Randy Hurd, who inspired this foray into water-walking!
ETA: I updated the calculator so that there is now an English unit version as well as a metric unit version.
Research credits:
– Glasheen and McMahon, “A hydrodynamic model of locomotion in the basilisk lizard”, 1996.
– Minetti et al., “Humans running in place on water at simulated reduced gravity,” 2012.
– Lothman and Ruina, “Humans can run on water using big instantly-changable shoes,” 2012.
(Image credits: Disney, CW/DC Comics, Lothman and Ruina, source, and The Splash Lab)
