In the 1920s, the world saw a new sort of marine propulsion, ships with one or more tall, smokeless cylinders. These Flettner rotors, named for their inventor, would spin in the wind, generating lift to propel the boat, much as a sail would. (The difference is that the rotor uses the Magnus effect.)
The market crash that kicked off the Great Depression spelled an end to the rotorship, but the idea is getting revived as industries search for greener forms of ship propulsion. Although the Flettner rotor still uses fuel (to spin the rotor), it can complete a voyage on only a small fraction of the fuel needed for conventional propulsion. (Image credit: Getty Images; via PopSci)
It’s a bit mindboggling, but by exploiting physics and geometry, a sailboat can reach speeds faster than the wind propelling it. Steve Mould demonstrates how in this video using some cool tabletop set-ups. Like a wing, a sail generates force by changing the direction of the incoming air. But the optimal speed for a sail is the one where the the flow doesn’t get deflected from its initial path at all (middle). If the sail were moving slower than this, the air would get pushed aside, creating a force that accelerates the boat. If the sail were moving faster, the air’s deflection would generate low pressure that would slow the boat down. Given this ideal match, it’s straightforward to show that, with the right sail angle, a boat can cover more distance than the air pushing it does in the same amount of time (right). Part of the mark of a great sailor is knowing how to manipulate this relationship to maximize your boat’s speed! (Image and video credit: S. Mould)
At first glance, sailboats don’t look much like an airplane, but physics-wise, they’re closely related. Both the sail and hull of a sailboat act like wings turned on their side. Just as with airplane wings, the driving force for a sail comes from a difference in pressure across the two sides of the sail. The same effects applied to the hull and its keel (the wing-like extension that sits below the hull) provide the force that keeps a sailboat from slipping sideways as it cuts a path through wind and water.
Like airplane wings, sailboats also generate tip vortices: one from the top of the sail, the other from the bottom of the keel. Those vortices are typically invisible, but in foggy weather, like in the photo below, you can see the tracks they leave behind. (Image credits: top – Ludomił; bottom – D. Forster; research credit: B. Anderson; submitted by Lluís J.)
Follow along all this week and next as we celebrate the Olympics with sports-themed fluid dynamics.
In the days before motorized propulsion, sailors would sometimes find themselves slowed nearly to a stop by what they called ‘dead water‘. As discovered in laboratory experiments over a century ago by Vagn Walfrid Ekman, the dead water phenomenon occurs where a layer of fresh water exists over saltier water. The ship’s motion generates internal waves in the salty layer, which in turn causes substantial additional drag on the boat. In a related phenomenon, named for Ekman, the internal waves generated by a boat’s initial acceleration cause its speed to fluctuate.
While these phenomena have little effect on today’s shipping, they can be relevant for swimmers in areas like harbors and fjords where fresh water meets the sea. And their effects were undoubtedly substantial for much of history. There is even speculation that dead water might have caused the defeat of Mark Antony and Cleopatra’s superior navy at the hands of Octavian’s smaller ships in the Battle of Actium. (Image credit: M. Blum; research credit: J. Fourdrinoy et al.; via Hakai Magazine; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
Summer brings with it lots of great sports, and whether you love riding a bike, sailing a boat, or just hanging out at the pool, our latest FYFD/JFM video has something for you. Want even more sports physics? Check out the Olympic series we did for the London and Rio games. And if you’re looking for more of the latest fluids research, don’t miss the rest of our video series. (Video and image credit: N. Sharp and T. Crawford)
My question involves “fenestrated rudders”, a Chinese invention that
involved cutting diamond-shaped holes in the rudders of ancient Chinese
sailing ships (known as Junks). According to several articles (on the
internet, ha ha), it reduces the amount of effort required to steer the
ship at higher speeds with “no loss of function”. All I can find is
anecdotal evidence and I’d like to know if these claims hold water or if
they’re just steering us in the wrong direction.
First off:
Now, I’m no expert on ships or sailing, but let’s talk rudders. Ships use rudders for steering. The rudder is completely submerged and turning it deflects water and creates a side force that helps steer a boat. In essence, it’s an underwater wing that generates lift in the side-to-side direction. Modern rudders even have the same shape as airfoils. That’s clearly not the case with the rudders of Chinese junks, but flat plates are a lot easier to make.
There’s another key feature of the junk’s rudder, and that’s the way it’s mounted. The junk’s rudder attaches to the ship such that it rotates about its leading edge. This makes it an unbalanced rudder. More modern rudders are typically mounted so that they rotate around an axis that’s partway back on the rudder. This is called a balanced rudder; I’ve illustrated both below.
The advantage of the balanced rudder is that it’s easier to turn. You can see this for yourself without adding water into the equation. Imagine holding a big rectangular sheet. If you hold it by one edge and try to rotate it, you can do it, but it’s kind of difficult. If you instead hold it about a third of the way across, you’ll find rotating it easier. Once you have a fluid moving past, it will only magnify how hard it is to turn the rudder.
So the Chinese junks had rudders that were harder to handle (by later ship-building standards) to begin with. By putting holes in the rudder, they equalized the pressure on either face of the rudder. That does make it easier to steer, since the helmsman is no longer fighting pressure differences across the rudder, but it would also reduce steering efficiency. It’s likely, however, given the slow speed of the junks, large rudder area, and their low hydrodynamic efficiency to begin with, that any drop in efficiency was negligible compared to the reduction in force necessary to steer.
Since modern designs rely on foil shapes to generate pressure differences (and therefore side force) across the rudder, adding holes to them would be a bad idea. But back in the Song dynasty, the fenestrated rudder was major advance in nautical engineering!
(Image credits: Chinese junk ship model – Premier Ship Models; Joffrey applauding – HBO; Rudder diagram – N. Sharp)
If you watch some of the sailing in Rio, you may hear commentators mention sailors being penalized for breaking Rule 42. Broadly speaking, Rule 42 says that sailors can’t use their body to propel the boat. While it seems like a little rocking couldn’t make much difference, it turns out events have these rules for good reason.
One way to break Rule 42 is to perform sail flicking, demonstrated in the animation above. The sailor uses his or her body weight to roll the boat slightly, which causes the sail to flick. Aerodynamically speaking, we’d call this motion heaving. On the flexible sail, this unsteady motion decreases drag, allowing the boat to go faster. Done with the right frequency and amplitude, sail flicking actually makes the sail’s drag become negative, thereby creating thrust!
The bottom image shows a visualization of the wake of a normal sail (left) and a sail being flicked (right). Both sails shed vortices in the downstream direction, but the flicked sail has much stronger vortices, indicated by the darker colors. In addition to giving a sailor an illegal boost, sail flicking creates more difficult, turbulent conditions for any competitors downstream, so it’s restricted in many (but not all) sailing events. (Image credits: AP Photos; Reuters; National Solo, source; research and flow diagram credit: R. Schutt and C. Williamson, pdf)
Sailors have long known about the “dead water” phenomenon, which can bring ships to a near-standstill, but it was only within the last century that an explanation for the behavior was found. The underlying cause is a stratification of fluids of different densities. As seen in the video above, when a boat moves by exerting a constant force, such as with propellers, it generates an internal wave along the interface between two density layers in the water. As the wave grows in amplitude, it speeds up, chasing and eventually breaking against the boat. The energy that drives the internal wave’s growth comes from the energy the boat expends for propulsion; the larger and closer the wave gets, the slower the boat goes because its energy is sapped by the wave. In the ocean, particularly near sources of freshwater run-off, like melting glaciers, the water can be extremely stratified, with many layers of different salinity and density. The end of the video simulates this with a three-fluid demonstration in which the boat’s motion generates internal waves across multiple density interfaces. (Video credit: M. Mercier et al.)
