FYFD

Search results for: “vortex”

  • Inside a Heart

    Inside a Heart

    You may not give it much thought, but there is important fluid dynamics happening inside you every moment of every day, especially inside your heart. Of the four chambers of the heart, the left ventricle has the thickest walls, reflecting its important task: pumping oxygenated blood throughout the body. In a healthy heart (top of poster; click here for the full-size version), a vortex ring and trailing jet fill the ventricle when the mitral valve opens. Then the ventricle contracts and pumps blood out the aortic valve and into the rest of the body.

    But for individuals with a leaking aortic valve (bottom of poster), things look different. Blood leaks back through the aortic valve at the same time that the mitral valve opens to allow freshly oxygenated blood back in. The two inflows disrupt mixing in the chamber, and, instead of pumping fully-oxygenated blood into the body, the left ventricle has to struggle to pump a less-oxygenated mixture into the body. (Image credit: G. Di Labbio et al.)

    ETA: (Research paper: G. Di Labbio et al., arXiv)

  • What Drives Droplets

    What Drives Droplets

    There’s been a lot of interest recently in what goes on inside droplets made up of more than one fluid as they evaporate. This can be entertaining with liquids like whiskey or ouzo, but it has practical applications in ink-jet printing and manufacturing as well. And a new experiment suggests that we’ve been fundamentally wrong about what drives the flow inside these drops.

    As these drops evaporate, a donut-shaped recirculating vortex forms inside them, as seem in the cutaway views above. Conventional wisdom says that vortex is driven by surface tension. Evaporation of components like alcohol is more efficient at the edges of the drop, and as the alcohol evaporates, it creates a higher surface tension at the drop’s edge than at its peak. Marangoni forces then pull fluid down toward the edges, creating the vortex. That explanation is  consistent with observations of a sessile drop sitting on top of a surface (left side of images).

    But those observations are also consistent with another explanation: evaporating ethanol makes the local density higher, so alcohol-rich parts of the drop rise toward the peak while alcohol-poor regions sink. This difference in density would also create a flow pattern consistent with observations. So which is the real driver, surface tension or gravity?

    To find out, researchers flipped the drop upside-down (right side of images). When hanging, the preferred flow direction due to surface tension doesn’t change; flow should still go from the deepest point on the drop toward the edge. But gravity is swapped; alcohol-rich areas should be found near the edge and attachment points of the drop because buoyancy drives them there. And that is exactly what’s observed. The flow direction inside the hanging droplet is consistent with the direction prescribed by buoyancy-driven flow, thereby upending conventional wisdom. It turns out that gravity, not surface tension, is the major driver of internal flow in these multi-component droplets! (Image and research credit: A. Edwards et al.; via APS Physics; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

  • Featured Video Play Icon

    The Tacoma Narrows Bridge

    One of the most dramatic and famous engineering failures of the twentieth century is also one of the most complicated: the collapse of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. This early suspension bridge earned the name “Galloping Gurtie” from construction workers while it was still being built because its flexibility made it prone to moving up and down under even relatively light winds. That vertical motion was due to vortex-induced vibration. As the wind blew, it shed vortices off the downstream side of the bridge. These vortices alternated, coming off the top and then bottom of the bridge deck. The resulting forces made the bridge shift up and down.

    That wasn’t the bridge’s ultimate downfall, though. Shortly before it collapsed, the bridge stopped flexing up and down and instead twisted back and forth. This was a clear sign that the bridge had moved into aeroelastic flutter. In this situation, you get a feedback loop between the bridge’s aerodynamics and its structural dynamics. When the wind twists the bridge deck to a positive angle of attack, it will try to continue forcing the bridge to twist that direction. The internal forces of the bridge will try to twist it back, but when that happens, it can overshoot and end up at a negative angle of attack. At that point, the wind tries to push it further that direction and internal forces twist it back, overshooting the other way. This back-and-forth can create a dangerous feedback loop where the twisting of the bridge keeps getting worse and worse. In fact, that’s exactly what happened – right up until the bridge collapsed rather than twisting any more. (Video and image credit: Practical Engineering)

  • Swirls of Color

    Swirls of Color

    These beautiful swirls show the wake downstream of a thin plate. Here water is flowing from left to right and dye introduced on the plate (upstream and unseen in the photo) curls up into vortices. The vortices in the top row rotate clockwise, while the vortices along the bottom rotate anti-clockwise. This pattern of alternating vortices is extremely common in the wakes of objects and is known as a von Karman vortex street. Similar patterns are seen in soap films, behind cylinders, in the wakes of islands, and behind spaceships.  (Image credit: ONERA, archived here)

  • Stall with Pitching Foils

    Stall with Pitching Foils

    For a fixed-wing aircraft, stall – the point where airflow around the wing separates and lift is lost – is an enemy. It’s the precursor to a stomach-turning freefall for the airplane and its contents. But the story is rather different when the wing is actively pitching through these high angles of attack. In this case, you get what’s known as dynamic stall, illustrated in three consecutive snapshots above.

    In the top image, the flow has clearly separated from the upper surface of the wing, but this isn’t a cause for panic. As the middle image shows, there’s a vortex that’s formed in that separated region and it’s moving backward along the wing as the angle of attack continues to increase. That vortex causes a strong low-pressure region on the upper surface of the wing, allowing it to maintain lift.

    In the final image, the vortex is leaving the wing, taking its low-pressure zone with it. This is the point where the pitching wing loses its lift, but if the vortex’s departure is immediately followed by a pitch down to lower angles of attack, the aircraft will recover lift and carry on. (Image credit: S. Schreck and M. Robinson, source)

  • Phytoplankton Swirl

    View this post on Instagram

    Every summer, phytoplankton spread across the northern basins of the North Atlantic and Arctic Oceans, with blooms spanning hundreds and sometimes thousands of kilometers. One of our Earth-observing satellites captured this natural-color image of striking swirls of green seawater rich with blooms of phytoplankton whirling in the Gulf of Finland, a section of the Baltic Sea. Note how the phytoplankton trace the edges of a vortex; it is possible that this ocean whirlpool is pumping up nutrients from the depths. Credit: NASA/U. S. Geological Survey/ Joshua Stevens/Lauren Dauphin #nasa #science #vortex #phytoplankton #earth #landsat #picoftheday #finland #earthview #views #satellite #lava #balticSea #beautiful #blooms

    A post shared by NASA (@nasa) on

    During the warm summer months, phytoplankton blooms pop up in waters around the world. This natural-color satellite image shows a bloom in the Gulf of Finland. The tiny phytoplankton serve as tracker particles for the flow, revealing large-scale features like the spectacular vortex in the center of this image. The presence of the phytoplankton here suggests that this vortex could be pumping nutrients up from the deep. 

    Researchers also use particles for flow visualization. This can be as simple as adding small, neutrally buoyant particles, illuminating smoke, or even using natural snowfall to see what’s happening in the flow. (Image credit: NASA/USGS/J. Stevens/L. Dauphin)

  • How Mantas Filter But Never Clog

    How Mantas Filter But Never Clog

    Manta rays spend much of their time leisurely cruising through the water with their meter-wide mouths open. As they swim, they filter plankton, which makes up most of their diet, from the water. And they do so without ever clogging. 

    The inside of the manta’s mouth is lined with gill rakers (upper right), a series of comb-like teeth. When flow hits the leading edge of these (bottom), it creates a vortex that accelerates any particles caught in the flow. They essentially ricochet along the top of the gill rakers, getting led straight into the manta’s digestive system – while excess water gets deflected between the gill rakers and back out the manta’s gills. To drive this, all the manta has to do is swim; with the right flow speed, the shape of the gill rakers handles all the filtration with no additional effort. (Image credit: manta ray – G. Flood; gill rakers – M. Paig-Tran; flow vis – R. Divi et al., source; research credit: M. Paig-Tran et al.; via The Atlantic; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

  • Exploding Meteors

    Exploding Meteors

    During the recent Perseid shower, photographer Petr Horálek caught an awesome timelapse of an exploding meteor and the vortex ring it created. This is a type of persistent train left when meteors pass through the upper atmosphere. The exact physics are not well understood because such events are difficult to observe; catching them at all is basically just happenstance. But one interpretation is that we’re seeing trails of plasma left by the ionization of parts of the meteor. When the meteor hits the upper atmosphere, there’s an extremely strong hypersonic shock wave. The jump in temperature across that shock wave is enough to pull atoms apart, creating a plasma. The train left by this meteor’s demise was faintly visible even an hour after the fireball. (Image credit: P. Horálek, video version; via APOD; submitted by Andrea S.)

  • Antibubbles

    Antibubbles

    Antibubbles are peculiar and ephemeral creations. A bubble typically encloses a gas within a thin layer of fluid. As the name suggests, an antibubble does the opposite: it’s a thin film of gas enclosing a liquid droplet within a larger background liquid. That thin gas film makes antibubbles extremely delicate. Disturb it at all – as the thinning jet at the top of the animation above does – and that film will break apart, much like a soap bubble. To see more antibubble action, check out some of our previous entries, including antibubbles in a vortex and a simple way to create antibubbles.  (Image credit: C. Kalelkar and S. Phansalkar, source)

  • The Sensitivity of a Seal’s Whiskers

    The Sensitivity of a Seal’s Whiskers

    Harbor seals and their brethren have a superpower that lets them track their prey even without sight or sound. It’s their whiskers, which are sensitive enough to follow the trail left by a single fish thirty seconds earlier. The secret to the whisker’s sensitivity lies in its shape. Instead of a uniform, circular cross-section, the seal’s whisker is oval-shaped and its width varies along the length in a wavy pattern. So unlike a straight cylinder, which vibrates when towed through water, the seal’s whiskers are unperturbed by their own movement. They shed only weak vortices and do not vibrate as a result.

    But, if you expose the whiskers to any external turbulence, like the vortices trailing a fish, the whisker ‘slaloms’ back-and-forth in time with the wake. That motion gets transmitted to the nerves in the seal’s cheek, carrying potential information about both the size and speed of the wake’s originator. Researchers hope similar bio-inspired whiskers could help underwater vehicles track schools of fish or locate underwater drilling leaks. (Image credit: M. Richter; video credit: MIT; research credit: H. Beem and M. Triantafyllou; via the Economist; submitted by Russ A. and Kam-Yung Soh)

More posts