Radiaton dosages from different sources. Graph by http://xkcd.com/radiation/.
xkcd has published an excellent graph showing where different dosages of radiation come from and how they affect health. It’s a complex figure, but it’s worth taking the time to look through. I find it easiest to interpret going backward from the bottom right corner that show the dosages that are clearly fatal.
One Seivert (1 Sv).
One red square of 100 red blocks is equal to one seivert, which is the radiation dosage that will kill you if you receive it all at once. Note:
If you were next to the reactor core during the Chernobyl nuclear accident, you would have gotten blasted by 50 Sv.
8 Sv will kill you, even with treatment.
Getting 0.1 Sv over a year is clearly linked to cancer.
One hour on the grounds of the Chernobyl nuclear plant (in 2010) would give you 0.006 Sv.
Your normal, yearly dose is about 0.004 Sv, just about how much was measured over a day at two sites near Fukushima.
Eating a banana will give you 0.000001 Sv.
While I did not find equivalent exposure levels, the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki lead to many deaths and sickness from radiation created by the explosions. Within four months, there were 140,000 fatalities in Hiroshima, and 70,000 in Nagasaki (Nave, 2010). The Manhattan Engineer District, 1946 report describes the radiation effects over the first month:
Radiation effects for the month following the dropping of the nuclear bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. (Table from The Manhattan Engineer District (1946) via atomicarchive.com).
The effects were not limited to the explosion itself, though. There is one estimate, that 260,000 people were indirectly affected:
Radiation dose in a zone 2 kilometers from the hypocenter of the atomic bomb was the largest. Also, those who entered the city of Hiroshima or Nagasaki soon after the atomic bomb detonation and people in the black rain areas were exposed to radiation. … some people were exposed to radiation from black rain containing nuclear fission products (“ashes of death”), and others to radiation induced by neutrons absorbed by the soil upon entering these cities soon after the atomic bomb detonation.
— Hiroshima International Council for Health Care for the Radiation Exposed (HICARE): Global Radiation Exposures.
HICARE also has a good summary of what happened at Chernobyl, where 31 people died at the time of the accident, about 400,000 were evacuated, and anywhere between 1.6 and 9 million people were exposed to radiation. Modern pictures of the desolation of Chernobyl are here. The Wikipedia article has before and after pictures of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Volcanos and convergent margins go together. Typically, the plate being subducted melts as it is pushed deeper into the Earth and temperatures rise. It also helps that the water in the crust and sediment of the subducting plate makes it easier to melt, and makes the resulting magma much more volatile and explosive.
The subducting plate melts producing volatile magma.
But although Shinmoedake is in Japan, it is not on the same tectonic boundary as the earthquake. The northern parts of Japan are where the Pacific Plate is being subducted beneath the Okhotsk Plate. This volcano is connected to the subduction of the Philippine Plate to the south.
The large earthquake's epicenter and the Shinmoedake volcano are on different plate margins. Image adapted from Wikimedia Commonsuser Sting.
This does not necessarily mean that the two occurrences are totally unrelated. Seismic waves from the big earthquake could have been enough to incite magma chambers that were just about ready to blow anyway.
The map below is centered on the series of craters in the region of the erupting volcano.
The tsunami spawned by the recent earthquake off Japan did most of the damage we know about so far. The U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Center for Tsunami Research uses computer models to forecast, and provide warnings about, incoming tsunami waves. They have an amazing simulation showing the propagation of the recent tsunami across the Pacific Ocean (the YouTube version is here).
Images captured from the NOAA simulation. The full resolution, 47Mb video can be found here, on NOAA's site.
They’ve also posted an amazing graphic showing the wave heights in the Pacific Ocean.
Tsunami wave heights modeled by NOAA. Note the colors only go up to 2 meters. The maximum wave heights (shown in black in this image), near the earthquake epicenter, were over 6 meters.
Of course, these are the results of computer simulations. As scientists, the people at NOAA who put together these plots are always trying to improve. Science involves a continuous series of refinements to better understand the world we live in, so the NOAA scientists compare their models to what really happen so they can learn something and do better in the future. Perhaps the best way to do this for the tsunami is by comparing the predictions of their models to the actual water height measured by tidal gages:
The red line is the tsunami's water height predicted by the NOAA computer models for Honolulu, Hawaii, while the black line is the actual water height, measured at a tidal gauge. Other comparisons can be found here.
You’ll notice that NOAA did not do a perfect job. They did get the amplitude (height) of the waves mostly right, but their timing was a little off. Since it’s about 6000 km from the earthquake epicenter to Honolulu, being off by a few minutes is no mean feat. Yet I’ll bet they’re still working on making it better, particularly since some of the other comparisons were not quite as good.
… a tsunami wave approaching land is more like a wall of whitewater. …. Since the wave is 100 miles long and the tail end of the wave is still traveling at 500 mph, the shore end of the wave becomes extremely thick, and is forced to run far inland, over streets and trees and houses. …. And remember, the water isn’t clean, but filled with everything dredged up from the sea floor and the land the wave runs over–garbage, parking meters, pieces of buildings, dead animals.
Nuclear disasters are so rare that they’re easy to forget about when we’re talking about the right mix of alternative (non-carbon based) energy sources for the future.
Right after the accidents at Three Mile Island in 1979 and Chernobyl in 1986, awareness of the dangers lead to a de facto moratorium on nuclear power plants in the U.S.. This was good in that people were now treating nuclear power much more respectfully, and incorporating the costs of potential accidents into their calculations. However, it also reduced the interest and effort of developing newer and safer types of nuclear plants.
We’ll have this discussion next year when we focus more on the physical sciences.
With a little help to get started, the water erodes a channel, transporting sediment to the ocean.
For what it’s worth (and it seems a reasonable explanation to me):
The beach sits at the base of a valley which has a small stream running through it. Due to wave action, sand gets pushed up into a large hill in front of the stream each winter. This creates a natural dam that the stream water collects behind for months which is about 20 feet above the level of the ocean on the other side of the sand berm. Every year some one digs a trench through the sand releasing millions of gallons of fresh water into the ocean.
– YouTube User:Hackfleischhasser comments on the video Waimea River
The magnitude 8.9 earthquake that devastated coastal areas in Japan shows up very clearly on the United States Geologic Survey’s recent earthquake page.
The big red square marks an aftershock of the magnitude 8.9 earthquake off Japan. (Image via USGS). Note that most of the earthquakes occur around the edge of the Pacific Ocean (and the Pacific Plate).
Based on our studies of plate tectonics, we can see why Japan is so prone to earthquakes, and we can also see why the earthquake occurred exactly where it did.
The obvious trench to the east and the mountains and volcanoes of the Japanese islands indicate that this is a convergent margin. The Pacific plate is moving westward and being subducted beneath the northern part of Japan, which is on the Okhotsk Plate.
The tectonic plates and their boundaries surrounding Japan. The epicenter of the earthquake is along the convergent margin where the Pacific Plate is being subducted beneath the Okhotsk Plate. Image adapted from Wikimedia Commonsuser Sting.
The epicenter of the earthquake is on the offshore shelf, and not in the trench. Earthquakes are caused by breaking and movement of rocks along the faultline where the two plates collide.
In cross-section the convergent margin would look something like this:
Diagram showing the tectonic plate movement beneath Japan. Note the location of the earthquake is beneath the offshore shelf and not in the trench.
The shaking of the sea-floor from the earthquake creates the tsunamis.
So where are there similar tectonic environments (convergent margins)? You can use the Google Map above to identify trenches and mountain ranges around the world that indicate converging plates, or Wikimedia Commonsuser Sting’s very detailed map, which I’ve taken the liberty of highlighting the convergent margins (the blue lines with teeth are standard geologists’ markings for faults and, in this case, show the direction of subduction):
Convergent plate boundaries (highlighted blue lines) shown on a world map of tectonic boundaries. The blue lines with teeth are standard geologic symbols for faults, with the teeth showing the direction of the fault underground. Image adapted from Wikimedia Commonsuser Sting.
The Daily Dish has a good collection of media relating to the effects of the quake, including footage of the tsunami inundating coastal areas.
Cars being washed away along city streets:
Our thoughts remain with the people of Japan.
UPDATES:
1. Alan Taylor has collected some poignant pictures of the flooding and fires caused by the tsunami and earthquake. TotallyCoolPix has two pages dedicated to the tsunami so far (here and here).
2. Emily Rauhala summarizes Japan’s history of preparing for this type of disaster. They’ve done a lot.
3. Mar 12, 2011. 2:10 GMT: I’ve updated the post to add the map of the tectonic plates surrounding Japan.
4. A CNN interview that includes video of the explosion at the Fukushima nuclear power plant (my full post here).
5. NOAA has an amazing image showing the tsunami wave heights.
Tsunami wave heights modeled by NOAA. Note the colors only go up to 2 meters. The maximum wave heights (shown in black in this image), near the earthquake epicenter, were over 6 meters.
They also have an excellent animation showing the tsunami moving across the Pacific Ocean. (My post with more details here).
6. The United States Geological Survey (USGS) put out a podcast on the day of the earthquake that has interviews with two specialists knowledgeable about the earthquake and the subsequent tsunami, respectively. Over 250 kilometers of coastline moved in the earthquake which is why the tsunami was so big. They also have a shakemap, that shows the area affected by the earthquake.
USGS ShakeMap for the earthquake. Image via the USGS.
9. A detailed article on earthquake warning systems, among which, “Japan’s system is among the most advanced”, was recently posted in Scientific American.
10. Mar 15, 2011. 9:15 GMT: I’ve added a map of tectonic boundaries highlighting convergent margins.
Shinmoedake Volcano.
11. The Shinmoedake Volcano erupted two days after the earthquake, but they may be unrelated.
Fukushima reactor status as of March 16th, 5:00 pm GMT from the Guardian live blog.
12. The Guardian’s live blog has good, up-to-date information on the status of the nuclear reactors at Fukushima.
This short hike that follows a limestone bedded creek, will likely take a while because there’s quite a bit of geology to see.
The start of the hike is on the eastern side of the bridge between the villas and the hotel. Head north (left in the image) toward the lake.
This year, it was on a chilly, rainy morning in February, that we started on our hike. We took a left off the concrete stairway onto the trail that runs parallel to the river flowing in the ravine just below our cabins.
We’d stayed at the villas at Montgomery Bell State Park, which is about an hour east of Nashville. The villas are quite nice. Built into the side of the valley, sitting just across a small river from the park’s hotel/conference center, and designed to be energy efficient, they’re quite comfortable with their geothermal heating and vaulted ceilings.
They’re so nice that some wanted to stay in the warm. Others, however, were eager to get outside, despite, or perhaps even because of, the rain. I gave them the choice, but everyone came.
With the rain, we soon ran into trouble. Runoff from the road and building uphill converted part of the trail into a small stream. The first few brave souls committed to wet feet, and waded through.
The dam and lake at Montgomery Bell.
But the stream along the trail did not last long. Pretty soon we left it behind, and coming out of the valley the lake and dam opened up to the right and left. Though it had been raining for much of the previous night, the lake was still very low after the dry autumn and winter. The line of grass that marks its usual shoreline was over a meter above the level of the water.
Short concrete wall that acts as the outlet level for the dam.
So we crept along the southern edge of the dam to follow the path of the overflow channel. It was quite interesting to see the sediment and debris that choked the reservoir side of the concrete wall that regulates the level of the lake. The other side of the wall, where the water must accelerate as it overtops the barrier, was clean, bare and smooth, looking a lot like concrete until you get close enough to see that it’s hard, dark, limestone bedrock.
Drill-hole with radial shatter pattern.
But not hard enough. Small, round holes pockmark the rock. Clearly artificial, with radial cracks diverging from the center, they remind me of Sarajevo roses.
They’re probably contemporaneous with the building of the dam. In order to have their outflow channel, the dam builders needed to blast away some of the rock, so they drilled holes and filled them with explosives. The blasts crushed the upper layers of rock, but the bedding plane, upon which we are walking, dissipated the force and remained, mostly, intact.
Following the reservoir outflow channel.
The bedding plane is a bit slippery with the rain and light coating of moss, so we take a bit more care with our footing. The sides of the outflow channel are steep, with nice exposures of horizontal layers of limestone rocks.
Though I don’t go into it in detail, the different layers, with their different colors, hardness, and fossils, show the changing environment in which the sediments that created these rocks were deposited. The more friable, tan-colored layers were likely formed at a time when sea-level was lower, when this area was closer to the coastline so more sand and clays could settle out of the muddy waters emerging from fecund deltas. On the other hand, the dark, dense, grey limestone rocks are much more typical of deeper seas, offshore environments.
Tree roots prying apart the bedrock: biological weathering.
I did take the time to elaborate on the topic of weathering when my students pointed out the tree growing on the side of the cliff, with its roots entwining and pulling apart the limestone rock. It’s a part of the rock cycle that we had not spent a whole lot of time talking about in the classroom so I was glad for the opportunity.
Joints in limestone. Notice how the layers on either side of the joint line up.
Weathering also plays a part in the widening of joints, and the joints we saw were obvious and important in shaping the course of the channel. Joints are simply breaks in the rocks. When this region was uplifted, the rocks were squeezed and fractured by tectonic forces. There was not enough tectonism to seriously deform the region, the rocks are after all still close to horizontal, but they did break, creating joints that cut right through the bed of our channel and straight through the wall.
You’ll notice that the layers on either side of the joint line up, so this is just a fracture in the rock. Often, the rock will break and one side will be pushed up relative to the other; that would be considered a fault.
Runnoff from the rain, flowing along and widening joint in limestone.
One of the nice things about being out in the rain, was that you could see the water in action. Gliding along the joints, picking up and eroding small pieces of debris, while slowly, imperceptibly, dissolving away the rock and enlarging the joints. It’s the same process that created the caves we saw last year at Merimec; the reprecipitation of dissolved calcium carbonate from the limestone rocks is what creates the stalactites, stalagmites and other cave formations.
Looking up the channel at exposed bedding planes and joints.
It took a bit of care to follow the channel down. It also took teamwork. We’ve been practicing all year and it’s under these conditions that all the teambuilding, from the challenge course onward, really pays off.
Committing to wet feet.
At the bottom of the bedrock traverse was a big puddle. The water from the regular outflow of the dam creates pushes up sediment that blocks the free flow of the runoff from the current rainfall. Undoubtedly, this gets washed away when the reservoir overflows through the outlet channel, but today there was just a big puddle.
Here we faced a choice. We could have taken a hard right and walked back up to the dam along the edge of the small cliff that overlooked the outlet channel we’d just come down. It’s a nice walk, through last year’s leaf litter, and the overhang is just high enough to provide a small taste of vertigo. But the students wanted to push on, past the confluence, and follow the stream downhill. A second set of students had made the full commitment to wet feet, and any initial reluctance to be outside on a rainy day had disappeared. We followed the stream.
Convergence of the overflow channel and the drainage stream for the reservoir.
Just a few meters downstream from our decision puddle, we ran into the confluence of the regular outflow from the dam and the ephemeral, rainfall driven stream we’d been following. It’s a good place to talk about tributaries, deltas, and sediment transport, deposition and erosion, because the channel deepens into a little pool with lots of small scale features.
Following the stream.
Past the confluence the stream straightens out. It’s remarkably straight. If it weren’t for the fact that we’re in limestone rocks, it would be easy to assume, given the dam and all, that the lack of sinuosity is artificial. But it seemed like the stream was flowing parallel to the joints we’d seen earlier, so it’s not unlikely that the water is following a fracture in the rock. When convergent, tectonic forces fracture rocks, the rocks tend to break at an angle to the direction of the forces (somewhere around 60 degrees to the direction of the forces, if I remember correctly).
Climbing up to the trail that follows the ridge.
Following the stream brought us close to the picnic shelter near the entrance to the park. Just across the water is a pathway up the rocks on the side of the valley that takes you up to the trail that follows the ridge that parallels the valley.
Looking down at the stream and its floodplain from the top of the ridge.
It’s quite peaceful, standing on the ridge while water droplets drip through the sparse winter canopy, with last fall’s leaf litter beneath your feet.
Looking back down into the valley you could see (and talk about) the stream and its flat flood plain. It’s a chance to anthropomorphize. The stream “wants” to meander. It has to be constrained to one side for a reason.
Crossing the dam on the way back to the cabins (upper left).
The ridge trail takes us back to the reservoir and dam, which are quite noticeable if you’re paying attention. We traipsed down the hill and walked a narrow path between the tall, reddish-tan grass that tops the dam, and the bouldery rip-rap that protects the earthen structure from the force of the waves.
With recent hopes of democracy and a new renaissance of the Islamic world, it’s perhaps appropriate to look back at the contributions that came from Muslim lands. This includes works in the fields of optics, ecology, engineering, algebra, mostly done in the years between 800 and 1250 A.D.. David Beillo has a wonderful slideshow in Scientific American.
In 1647, when Johannes Hevelius published his treatise on the moon, he placed Muslim scientist Alhazen on the frontpiece (left) to represent reason. (Image by Jeremias Falck via Wikimedia Commons).
