On the impact of blogging — or how far does my message mix?

What is the impact of this blog? And who am I writing it for?

Those are not questions I regularly ask myself. The main reason I started blogging was to organise all the interesting stuff I was collecting for my introduction to oceanography lecture at the University of Bergen in one place, so I would be able to find it when I needed it again. And I wanted to share it with friends who were interested in teaching oceanography or teaching themselves.

Another of the reasons why I blog is that I notice a lot of exciting features in everyday life that relate to oceanography and/or physics, that other people would just walk past and not notice, and that I would like to share the wonder of all those things with others. And noticing all this stuff is so much FUN! The blog “gives me permission” to play, to regularly do weekend trips to weirs or ship lifts or other weird landmarks that I would probably not seek out as often otherwise.

But the other day I was browsing the literature on science blogging in order to come up with recommendations for the design of what is to become the Kiel Science Outreach Campus’ (KiSOC) blog. I came across a paper that resonated with me on so many levels: “Science blogs as boundary layers: Creating and understanding new writer and reader interactions through science blogging” by M-C Shanahan (2011). First, I really liked to see the term “boundary layer” in the title, since it brings to mind exciting fluid mechanics. Then second, I read that the boundary phenomena I was thinking of were really where the term “boundary layer” came from even in this context. And then I realised that I have had “boundary layer” experiences with this blog, too!

So what are those boundary layers about? Well, in fluid mechanics, they are the regions within fluids that interact with “something else” — the boundary of a flow, e.g. a pipe, or a second fluid of different properties.  They are a measure for the region over which temperature or salinity or momentum or any other property is influenced by the boundary. But the same construct can be used for social groups, i.e. in my case oceanographers and non-oceanographers. (You should, btw, totally check out the original article! Her example is even more awesome than mine)

But here is my own boundary layer experience: My sister sent me an email with the subject “double-diffusive mixing” and a picture she had taken! My sister is not an oceanographer, and I wasn’t even aware that she associated the term “double-diffusive mixing” with anything in particular other than me writing my Diplom thesis about it and probably talking about a lot. But that she would recognise it? Blew my mind!

Turns out what she saw is actually convection, but it doesn’t look that dissimilar from salt fingers, and how awesome is it that she notices this stuff and thinks of oceanography?

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Day 1. The remaining pink soap starts making its way up through the refill of clear soap.

Obviously I asked for follow-up pictures:

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Day 2. A lot of the pink soap has reached the top, passing through the clear refill.
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Day 3. All of the “old” pink soap is now on its way up through the clear refill.

And I had another boundary layer experience recently: A sailor on the Norwegian research vessel Håkon Mosby with many many years experience at sea had seen my book and told me that he now looks at waves in a new way. How awesome is that? That’s the biggest compliment my book could get, to teach something new about visual observations of the ocean to someone who looks at the ocean every single day!

Anyway. Reading this article made me think about how happy both those boundary layer experiences made me, and that maybe I should actually start aiming at creating more of those. Maybe not with this blog, that I kinda want to keep as my personal brain dump, but there are so many different ways to interact more with people who would potentially be super interested in oceanography if only they knew about it… I guess there is a reason why I am working the job I am :-)


Shanahan, M. (2011). Science blogs as boundary layers: Creating and understanding new writer and reader interactions through science blogging Journalism, 12 (7), 903-919 DOI: 10.1177/1464884911412844

Observe a fresh water layer (with your eyes, not a CTD!)

Sometimes you actually see fresh water layers (see with your eyes, not a CTD or some other instrument) floating on top of denser waters, not only in your kitchen and with the help of dye, but for real. In this case, you see the layers because the shadow of a pole appears twice — once on the surface itself, and once on the interface between the layers.

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See below: Shadow on the surface between the red lines, on the interface between green lines, and the reflection on the surface between blue lines.

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I took these pictures on a trip to Husum with my sister and her family.

Why moist air is lighter than dry air.

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Why is moist air lighter than dry air? This seems pretty counter-intuitive at first, but then really isn’t.

I promised to do a post on why moist air is lighter than dry air a long time ago, and wrote it about a year and a half ago (!), but never published it. So here we go now!

First, we need to assume that air is an ideal gas. In that case, the number of molecules in a given volume depends only on the pressure and temperature of the gas. This is given in the ideal gas law:

PV=NkT

with P the pressure, V the volume, N Avogadro’s number = 6.0221 x 1023 /mol, k the Bolzman constant 1.38066 x 10-23 J/K and T the absolute temperature.

Is the assumption that air is an ideal gas a good one? Despite my sister’s insistence, I am not going to write a post on how I dyed all molecules in a volume of air and counted them (very funny, ha ha). So experimentally confirming N or k isn’t going to happen. But we can qualitatively show that if the number of gas molecules increases and the temperature stays the same, pressure and/or volume have to increase. We can also show that if we change the volume, this will affect pressure and temperature. All of those experiments might happen in a future post, they are all pretty standard and not very exciting.

Assuming that the ideal gas law holds for air, this means that since the number of molecules per volume is constant, the density depends on the mass of the molecules inside the volume.

Air contains a lot of N2 and O2. N’s atomic unit mass is 14, O’s is 16. N2 and O2 hence are heavy molecules with N2 weighing 28 and O2 32 atomic units. Water vapor are water molecules, and the atomic weight of H2O is 16+1+1 = 18. Each water vapor molecule is hence a lot lighter than any N2 or O2 molecule, and since the total number of molecules per volume at a given temperature and pressure is constant, the more H2O molecules replace N2 or O2 molecules, the moister – and lighter – the air gets.

Taking the hydrostatic paradox to the next (water) level

How well do people understand hydrostatics? I am preparing a workshop for tomorrow night and I am getting very bored by the questions that I have been using to introduce clickers for quite a lot of workshops now. So I decided to use the hydrostatic paradox this time around.

The first question is the standard one: If you have a U-tube and water level is given on one side, then what is the water level like on the other side? We all know the typical student answer (that typically 25% of the students are convinced of!): On the wider side the water level has to be lower since a larger volume of water is heavier than the smaller volume on the other side.

Clearly, this is not the case:

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However, what happens if you use that fat separator jug the way it was intended to be used and fill it with two layers of different density (which is really what it is intended for: to separate fat from gravy! Your classical 2-layer system)?

Turns out that now the two water levels in the main body of the jug and in the spout are not the same any more: Since we filled the dense water in through the spout, the spout is filled with dense water, as is the bottom part of the jug. Only the upper part of the jug now contains fresh water.

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The difference in height is only maybe a millimetre, but it is there, and it is clearly visible:

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Water level 1 (red line) is the “main” water level, water level 2 (green line) is the water level in the spout and clearly different from 1, and water level 3 is the density interface.

We’ll see how well they’ll do tomorrow when I only give them levels 1 and 3, and ask them to put level 2 in. Obviously we are taking the hydrostatic paradox to the next (water) level here! :-)

Using the “melting ice cube” experiment to let future instructors experience inquiry-based learning.

Ice cubes melting in fresh water and salt water. By Mirjam S. Glessmer

Using the “melting ice cube” experiment to let future instructors experience inquiry-based learning.

I recently (well, last year, but you know…) got the chance to fill in for a colleague and teach part of a workshop that prepares teaching staff for using inquiry-based learning in their own teaching. My part was to bring in an experiment and have the future instructors experience inquiry-based learning first hand.

So obviously I brought the ice cubes melting in fresh water and salt water experiment! (Check out that post to read my write-up of many different ways this experiment can be used, and what people can learn doing it). On that occasion the most interesting thing for me was that when we talked about why one could use this — or a similar — experiment in teaching, people mainly focussed on the group aspect of doing this experiment: How people had to work together in a team, agree to use the same language and notation (writing “density of water at temperature zero degree Celsius” in some short syntax is not easy when you are not an oceanographer!).

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And this experiment never fails to deliver:

  • you can be 100% sure that at least in one group, someone will say “oh wait, which was the salt water again?” which hands you on a plate the opportunity to say “see — this is a great experiment to use when talking about why we need to write good documentation already while we are doing the experiment!”
  • you can also be 100% sure that in that group, someone will taste the water to make sure they know which cup contains the salt water. Which lets you say your “see — perfect experiment to talk about lab safety stuff! Never ever put things in your mouth in a lab!”
  • you can also be sure, that people come up with new experiments they want to try. At EMSEA14, people asked what would happen if the ice cubes were at the bottom of the beaker. Today, people asked what the dye would do if there was no ice in the cups, just salt water and fresh water. Perfect opportunity to say “try! Then you’ll know! And btw — isn’t this experiment perfect to inspire the spirit of research (or however you would say that in English – “Forschergeist” is what I mean!). This is what you see in the pictures in this blog post.

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So yeah. Still one of my favorite experiments, and I LOVE watching people discover the fascination of a little water, ice, salt and food dye :-)

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Photo taken by Ulrike Bulmann
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Photo taken by Ulrike Bulmann

Btw, when I gave a workshop on active learning last week and mentioned this experiment, people got really really hooked, too, so I’ll leave you with a drawing that I liked:

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The importance of playing in outreach activities.

Some time ago, I wrote two blog posts on the importance of playing in outreach activities for the EGU’s blog’s “educational corner” GeoEd. Both have now been published, check them out! Here is the link on EGU’s website (here) and in case that ever stops working, it is also available on my own website (here – including a lot of bonus materials that didn’t make the cut over at EGU)

What do you think? What makes for the best outreach activities?

When water doesn’t seek its level

Water seeks its level. U-tube experiment. By Mirjam S. Glessmer

Last week we talked about misconceptions related to hydrostatic pressure, and how water always seeks its level. Today I’m gonna show you circumstances in which this is actually not the case!

We take the fat separator jug we used last week. Today, it is filled with fresh water, to which we add very salty water through the jug’s spout. What is going to happen? Watch the movie and find out!

Turns out that now the two water levels in the main body of the jug and in the spout are not the same any more: Since we filled the dense water in through the spout, the spout is filled with dense water, as is the bottom part of the jug. Only the upper part of the jug now contains fresh water.

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The difference in height is only maybe a millimetre, but it is there, and it is clearly visible.

Do you see the opportunities for discussions this experiment provides? If we knew the exact volumes of fresh water and salt water, and the exact salinity, we could measure the difference in height of the water levels and try to figure out how much mixing must have taken place when the fresh water was added to the jug. Or we could use the difference in height to try and calculate the density difference between fresh water and salt water and then from that calculate salinity. So many possibilities! :-)

My favorite demonstration of the coolest mixing process: Salt fingering!

I am updating many of my old posts on experiments and combining multiple posts on the same topic to come up with a state-of-the-art post, so you can always find the best materials on here. And today I would like to present you my favorite experiment: Salt fingering!

Check out the new page I made for salt fingering!

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Self-portrait with salt fingers

As you guys might have noticed, I’ve been playing around with my site a quite bit. My blog has moved to mirjamglessmer.com/blog in order to make room for static pages of my favorite experiments or teaching tips right at the landing site mirjamglessmer.com. What do you think? Good idea? Did you notice anything that isn’t quite working yet or do you have advice or wishes? Let me know!

A very simple overturning experiment for outreach and teaching

Overturning experiment. By Mirjam S. Glessmer

For one of my side-projects I needed higher-resolution photos of the overturning experiment, so I had to redo it. Figured I’d share them with you, too.

You know the experiment: gel pads for sports injuries, one hot (here on the left), one cold (here on the right). Blue dye on the cold pad to mark the cold water, red dye on the warm pad as a tracer for warm water.

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Thermally-driven overturning circulation: Warm water flowing near the surface from the warm pad on the left towards the right, cold flow from the cool pad at the bottom right to left.

A circulation develops. If you drop dye crystals in the tank, the ribbon that formed gets deformed by the currents for yet another visualization of the flow field.

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Thermally-driven overturning circulation. In the middle of the tank you see a ribbon of dye, caused by falling dye crystals, being transformed by the currents in the tank.

Lighting is a problem this time of year. I chose natural light over artificial, and it came out ok, I think.

And here is the video:

On buoyancy

This is an experiment that Martin brought to Ratzeburg and that he let me use on my blog: Using a beam balance to talk about buoyancy.

So at first we have two objects hanging on the beam balance, a heavy one with a large volume, and a lighter one with a smaller volume.

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As we lower the beam balance towards the water, the large object starts floating! Whereas the other one does not.IMG_2526

And in fact, the small object sinks and the larger one keeps floating.IMG_2525

What a great experiment to talk about density and buoyancy!