Artist Skye Kelly’s “Creep (strain)” sculpture shown above is made from toffee. The viscous fluid deforms under the force of gravity, resulting in elongated drips and slow jets that buckle and coil upon reaching the floor. (Photo credits: Skye Kelly; via freshphotons)
Here a collection of dry grains are vertically vibrated, creating a series of standing waves on the surface of the sand. The shapes of these Faraday waves are dependent upon the frequency of the vibration. Despite the solid nature of sand particles, this behavior is much the same as the behavior of a vibrated fluid.
The liquid rope coiling effect occurs in viscous fluids like oil, honey, shampoo, or even lava when they fall from a height. The exact behavior of the coil depends on factors like the fluid viscosity, the height from which the fluid falls, the mass flow rate, and the radius of the falling jet. Here Destin of the Smarter Every Day series outlines the four regimes of liquid coiling behavior commonly observed. As with many problems in fluid dynamics the regimes are described in terms of limits, which can help simplify the mathematics. The viscous regime (2:34 in the video) exists in the limit of a small drop height, whereas the inertial regime (3:15) exists in the limit of large drop height. Many complicated physical problems, including those with nonlinear dynamics, are treated in this fashion. For more on the mathematics of the coiling effect, check out Ribe 2004 and Ribe et al. 2006. (Video credit: Destin/Smarter Every Day; submitted by inigox5)
Most everyone is familiar with the difficulty of getting ketchup out of its bottle. Part of the trouble is that ketchup is a shear-thinning fluid, meaning that its viscosity decreases with an increasing rate of shear. Thus, a shear-thinning fluid flows better once it starts moving. This is why the ketchup moves much faster once it is initially disturbed. LiquiGlide, a new coating material demonstrated above, has gained a lot of popular attention in the press recently for solving the difficulty of the stuck condiments. It appears that the coating reduces the static coefficient of friction between the food and the bottle, meaning that the ketchup starts sliding down the wall even before an increase in shear stress starts the flow. (submitted by @szescstopni)
Fluid motion is captured as a floral still life in these high-speed photos by Jack Long. The artist keeps mum about his set-up but notes that these are single capture events, not constructed composites. It looks as if the blossoms are created from the impact of a falling fluid with the upward jet that forms the stem. The leaves and vase appear to be created from upward splashes, but whether those are generated by vibration or dropping an object is unclear. See Long’s Flickr page for more. (Photo credit: Jack Long via Gizmodo)
We’ve seen the effects of vibration on shear-thickening non-Newtonian fluids here on Earth before in the form of “oobleck fingers” and “cornstarch monsters”, but, to my knowledge, this is the first such video looking at the behavior in space. The vibrations of the speaker cause shear forces on the cornstarch mixture, which causes the viscosity of the fluid to increase. This is what makes it react like a solid to sudden impacts while still flowing like a liquid when left unperturbed. In microgravity there is one less force working against the rise of the cornstarch fingers, so the formations we see in this video are subtly different from those on Earth.
At small angles of attack, air flows smoothly around an airfoil, providing lifting force through the difference in pressure across the top and bottom of the airfoil. As the angle of attack increases, the lift produced by the airfoil increases as well but only to a point. Increasing the angle of attack also increases the adverse pressure gradient on the latter half of the top surface, visible here as an increasingly thick bright area. Over this part of the surface, the pressure is increasing from low to high–the opposite of the direction a fluid prefers to flow. Eventually, this pressure gradient grows strong enough that the flow separates from the airfoil, creating a recirculating bubble of air along much of the top surface. When this happens, the lift produced by the airfoil drops dramatically; this is known as stall.
jonesmartinez asks:
As a cyclist, I’m curious about drafting. How fast do I need to be going for there to be a measurable benefit? Additionally, often in a time trial a single rider is often followed by the team car and I’ve heard the rider can be pushed by the air around the team car. Any truth to this rumor? Thanks, I love the blog.
Drafting plays a major role in cycling and its tactics (check out our previous series on cycling). In general, drag increases with the square of velocity and data show this holds for cyclists. The rule of thumb I’ve heard given is that aerodynamic drag doesn’t play a large role below 15 mph, but I have not seen the numbers that inform that claim. Moreover, you have to consider the resultant airspeed around the cyclist. For example, a cyclist moving 13 mph into a 15 mph headwind (28 mph effective) will be experiencing more drag than a cyclist moving 20 mph with a 10 mph tailwind (10 mph effective). With drag being reduced 25-40% by drafting a leading rider, it is almost always beneficial to get behind someone.
That said, I have seen no measurable benefit for a leading rider with a paceline behind him, even though this should, in theory, reduce the drag on the lead rider by closing out his wake. With a large object like a car behind a solo rider, there might theoretically be some benefit. However, the car would have to be driving extremely close to the rider–far closer than they do in reality.
That said, with the prevalence of power meters in the amateur market these days, I think it would be a neat project to go out and try a few of these things firsthand and see whether such tactics actually result in a measurable difference in a cyclist’s performance–though I don’t recommend riding a foot off the front or back of a car!
Spin a hard boiled egg in a puddle of milk and you get a sprinkler. But how? The science starts at the surface. When the egg spins, the fluid touching its surface is dragged along due to friction, and, because of the fluid’s viscosity, other parts of the fluid will also be spun. Dynamics tells us that the velocity at the surface of the object varies with radius; the velocity at the bottom of a spinning sphere is much smaller than that at its equator because a particle at the equator traverses a larger distance in a single rotation. Likewise, the fluid touching the bottom of the egg is spun slower than the fluid just above it. Bernoulli’s principle tells us that, for an incompressible fluid, the pressure decreases as velocity increases, meaning that a favorable pressure gradient exists along the spinning convex surface. It is this pressure gradient that draws the fluid up the sides of the object. Near the equator, the pressure gradient is weakest and centrifugal force flings the the fluid outward. Surface tension, angular velocity, and viscosity all play a role in the jets and sheets created by the sprinklers. (Video credit: NPR Science Friday with Tadd Truscott et al)
Bubbles, viscosity, diffusion, capillary action, and ferrofluids all feature in the artistic experiments of Kim Pimmel. Be sure to check out his previous film featured here. (Video credit: Kim Pimmel)