Fluid Flow & Aerodynamics
why things fly, and why the usual explanation is wrong
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The thread: Taught wrongly, everywhere — page 2

Page 2 of 14, continuing through the 124 essays this motif runs through.

124 essays carry this thread — page 2 of 14.

The chart, with one exact line on it. The friction factor of a pipe against Reynolds number, for five relative roughnesses. Every curve here except one is Colebrook's correlation, solved by iteration rather than read off a chart. The exception is the short straight line at the left: f = 64/Re is the laminar solution and it is exact. The curves flatten to the right because once the roughness pokes out of the viscous layer the Reynolds number has nothing left to change. Fluids at work

The roughness a wall cannot feel

A rough pipe and a polished one carry the same flow for the same pressure over three decades of Reynolds number, and then suddenly they do not. What changed is not the pipe. It is the thickness of the film of fluid at the wall, which is the only part of the flow that can see the roughness at all.

 Four ways of photographing one flow, and what each of them records. The same solved flow, rendered as four different laboratory techniques would record it. Smoke from a port gives a streakline; tufts give direction with no speed in it at all; an oil film gives the direction of the friction on the surface rather than the flow above it; pressure taps give a scalar with no direction in it. None of the four is the velocity field, and only the first happens to coincide with a streamline, because this flow is steady. What is taught wrongly

What a photograph of a flow shows

Wind-tunnel pictures are the evidence this whole subject is argued from, and hardly anybody says which quantity a given technique records. They are not interchangeable — smoke, tufts, oil and pressure taps measure four different things, and none of them is the velocity field.

 The box, and the one thing assumed about it. The control volume across a sudden enlargement. Mass and momentum crossing the two ends are known exactly. The only modelling statement in the whole derivation is written on the annular step: the pressure there is taken to be the upstream pressure, because the fluid in the corner is nearly stationary. Measurement supports it well. Nothing else is assumed, and in particular nothing at all is assumed about the eddy that lives in that corner — which this figure therefore does not draw. Fluids at work

A loss with no viscosity in it

Where a pipe suddenly widens, energy is destroyed. The amount is exact, it has been known since 1766, and the derivation never mentions viscosity, Reynolds number or roughness — because momentum does not care where the energy went, only that it left.

 Ten unknowns, four equations. What is left after the Navier–Stokes equations are averaged. The mean velocities and mean pressure were there before; the six Reynolds stresses are new, and they arrived from the one term that does not average away. Nothing in the count is an approximation — the averaged equations are exact — and that is what makes the gap uncomfortable. Transition and turbulence

What averaging costs

Split the velocity into a mean and a fluctuation, average the equations, and the result is exact. It is also short of six equations, because the one nonlinear term does not average away and leaves six new unknowns behind that nothing determines.

 The dynamic pressure is not ½ρU², and by Mach 0.85 it is out by a fifth. The pressure difference a pitot tube measures, divided by the incompressible dynamic pressure ½ρU², against Mach number. The dashed curve is the two-term series 1 + Ma²/4 + Ma⁴/40 that the rule of thumb comes from. An airspeed inferred from ½ρU² alone reads high, and the error is entirely predictable — which is why it is corrected rather than tolerated. What is taught wrongly

What the airspeed indicator believes

A pitot tube measures the difference between two pressures, correctly, at every speed. Everything wrong with an airspeed reading is in the arithmetic applied to that difference — and the error is 2.3 per cent at Mach 0.3 and 19.4 per cent at Mach 0.85.

 Two depths, and a gap the model will not describe. The surface either side of a hydraulic jump at an arriving Froude number of 5.05. Both depths are exact consequences of the momentum balance. The distance between them is not: the shallow-water model has no length scale in it and cannot say how far the transition takes, so the region between the two levels is left blank and the six-depth rule of thumb beside it is somebody's measurement rather than this site's result. Fluids at work

The shock in a river

Shallow water is a gas whose ratio of specific heats is two. The white water below a weir is a shock wave, momentum is conserved across it exactly, energy is not, and one direction is forbidden for the same reason an expansion shock is forbidden — which makes the analogy exact to first order and wrong at the second.

 The lift curve that made flight look impossible. Lift coefficient against incidence, by Newton's impact theory and by thin-aerofoil theory. One is quadratic in the angle and the other linear, so at small incidence — which is where aircraft fly — they differ by more than an order of magnitude. Newton's version says a wing large enough to carry a man would need an engine nobody could build, and for a century that arithmetic was taken as settling the question. What is taught wrongly

The theory that forbade flight

Newton treated air as a hail of particles that give up their normal momentum on impact, and got a lift coefficient of 2sin²α cos α. At five degrees that is a thirty-sixth of what a wing actually makes, and the quadratic is why powered flight looked arithmetically impossible for two centuries. The same formula is exact at Mach twenty.

 What a barometer on the wing would read at 60 m/s. The absolute pressure along an aerofoil's surface, in kilopascals, with the atmosphere put back. Nothing on the wing is near zero: the deepest point of the so-called suction peak is a few per cent below a hundred kilopascals, and the air there is still pushing on the wing hard enough to hold up a column of itself eight kilometres tall. The lift is the difference between two large pushes, not a pull. What is taught wrongly

Nothing sucks

The upper surface of a wing is universally described as being under suction, which sounds like a pull. A fluid cannot pull. The lowest absolute pressure on a wing at sixty metres a second is 96 kilopascals — a five per cent dip in a hundred — and the force does not depend on where zero was put, because the normals of a closed body sum to nothing.

 The cliff a rough ball reaches sooner. The drag coefficient of a sphere against Reynolds number, on log axes. The smooth curve is Morrison's correlation, which is a fit to measurements and is drawn in the colour this site reserves for a borrowed claim. The other is the same curve shifted along the Reynolds axis by a factor of 6 — a stated model of what roughness does, which is to trip the boundary layer early, and not a measurement of any real ball. Fluids at work

The drag that falls as it speeds up

There is a band of speeds in which a smooth ball experiences less drag the faster it goes. Not a smaller coefficient — a smaller force. Dimples move that band down to where a golf ball actually flies, and they do it by making the friction worse.

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