Every essay — page 26
Flows and fields Ideal flow Circulation and lift Viscosity Regimes and numbers Compressible flow Transition and turbulence Fluids at work What is taught wrongly Series Concepts Regimes Refutations Search
Ideal flow
The exact theory of a fluid with no viscosity — closed-form, elegant, and predicting no drag at all. Its failure is the most useful thing in the subject.
The paradox is for the pair, not for each body
D'Alembert's paradox says a body in a steady ideal stream feels no force. Put two bodies in the stream and the theorem still holds — for the pair. Each cylinder on its own is pushed: side by side they pull together, with a force that grows without limit as the gap closes, and one behind the other they push apart, so that the front cylinder is driven upstream into the stream that is flowing past it. The forces are equal and opposite at every spacing and every angle, and their sum is exactly the zero the paradox promised.
A strained vortex holds until it has no shape to hold
A patch of vorticity in a strain has two steady shapes for every strain below 0.150 of its vorticity, a rounder one and a longer one, and none above. The longer one comes apart at the slightest nudge. The rounder one, computed with disturbances of two, three, four and five lobes, never does: it nods and holds right up to the strain at which it ceases to exist. So the existence limit is the real limit, and past it a vortex is not shattered but stretched — lingering first near the shape it has lost, for a time that grows as the fourth root of how close the strain is to the limit.
A pair set free in a stream collides or parts
Two cylinders held in an ideal stream pull together side by side and push apart in tandem. Let them go and the forces become a motion, and the motion has a law of its own: the stream's force on each is exactly the slope of how large the pair looks from far away, so the pair moves to look bigger. Side by side that means closing, and the fluid squeezed out of the gap costs so little that nothing stops them: released four radii apart they collide in six and a half radii of stream. In tandem it means parting, for good.
A fuselage lowers its wing root's critical Mach number
A slender fuselage barely disturbs the air: two per cent of overspeed at its side, against the twelve a wing section of ordinary thickness makes. At the wing root the two are added, and two per cent on top of twelve moves the root's critical Mach number down by more than a hundredth — as much as making the whole wing thirteen per cent thicker. The fuselage's overspeed also fades far more slowly along the span than its size suggests, because the middle of a long body spreads its disturbance like a line, not a point.
At thirty degrees the Earth keeps time with the sea breeze
A sea breeze is Kelvin's circulation theorem failing: where warm air over land meets cool air over the sea, pressure and density surfaces cross and a circulation grows out of still air. Bjerknes' theorem prices the push, and the textbook's numbers give twenty-six metres a second in an hour — far more than any sea breeze blows. What stops it first is not friction but the evening: the push reverses before the wind can grow, and the day, not the drag, sets the breeze's size. Friction sets its hour, the Earth's rotation turns it through the day, and at thirty degrees, where the inertial period is a day, the turning keeps time with the push.
A free pair turns, and forty-five degrees decides
Two cylinders in an ideal stream move to look bigger to it: side by side they close, in tandem they part. Free to turn as well, a staggered pair swings towards side by side — and does not stop there, because nothing in an ideal fluid damps the swing. Whether it then collides or flies apart is decided, far apart, by one angle and a theorem: the stream's pull on the pair falls as the inverse square of the spacing, and for such a force the sign of the energy alone decides, which changes at exactly forty-five degrees.
A waist moves the overspeed and cannot remove it
A fuselage adds two per cent of overspeed at the wing root, and a waist — a local narrowing of the body where the wing joins it — is the obvious cure. Slender-body theory says exactly what a waist can do. Its sources and sinks sum to nothing, so the velocity it adds along the body integrates to zero: it cannot remove the overspeed, only move it. Moved off the whole root chord it needs a third of the fuselage's cross-section at the wing, a sixth of what the transonic area rule would take, and it lands on the fuselage just ahead of and behind the wing, where there is room for it.
Drag makes every free pair meet
Two cylinders set free in an ideal stream swing towards side by side like a pendulum, and whether they collide or part is fixed, far apart, by forty-five degrees. Give each a drag on its motion relative to the stream and the pendulum stops swinging — but it does not stop the pair. A drag coefficient of order one turns the swing into a creep, lets no pair get far from where it started, and brings every one of them round to meet near side by side.
A free waist needs half the depth, and the sweep costs it nothing
A cosine-squared dent in a fuselage cancels its overspeed at an unswept wing's root for about a third of the fuselage's cross-section, and nothing can remove the overspeed, only move it. Let a linear programme choose the waist's shape instead, and half of that third turns out to have been the dent's fault. The free waist is flat-bottomed and steep-sided, and for a swept root it simply runs aft with the chord, where a single dent has to widen and deepen.
A trailing wake hurries a pair together
Two cylinders free in a stream and damped by their drag always end up meeting near side by side, and the obvious candidate for what holds real pairs apart is their wakes: a body beside another's wake is pushed towards the faster fluid, away from it. Give each cylinder a wake that carries its drag and the push is there — but it points the wrong way. It throws a following cylinder out of the leader's wake and round towards side by side, where neither is in the other's wake and nothing opposes the stream's pull. Near tandem the wakes make the pair meet seven to sixty times sooner, and the only balance they create is a saddle.
A strained vortex loses its ring at the limit of what it holds
A uniform patch of vorticity survives a strain up to 0.150 of its vorticity and no further. A real vortex is not uniform: its vorticity falls off outward, and in a strain its weak outer layers are drawn off while its core survives. The obvious way to predict how much survives is to apply the uniform limit layer by layer, each layer to its own vorticity. It is wrong by up to a factor of three. Built from a core inside a ring and followed by contour dynamics, the ring is stripped not at the limit of its own vorticity but at the limit of all the vorticity inside its edge, and a little after it.
Water climbs a falling wedge, and the load comes from the climbing
A hull that strikes the sea sets the water under it moving, and the force is the rate at which it does so. The obvious estimate measures the wetted width where the hull crosses the undisturbed surface. But the water does not wait: pushed aside, it rises up the hull and wets it sooner, a factor π/2 wider for a wedge and √2 for a round bottom. The force carries that factor twice, and the peak pressure, where a thin jet leaves the hull, carries it squared on a cotangent that grows without bound as the bottom flattens.