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The thread: Taught wrongly, everywhere — page 4

Page 4 of 14, continuing through the 124 essays this motif runs through.

124 essays carry this thread — page 4 of 14.

The fastest course is never the one towards the mark. Boat speed and speed made good against the course sailed. Speed rises steadily as the boat bears away, but what counts is the component along the direction wanted, and that has a maximum well off the straight line — at 55.0 degrees going upwind and 145.0 going down. Both optima are found here by search and agree with 45° + λ/2 and 135° + λ/2 to six figures. Fluids at work

The fastest way is not the straight one

A boat racing to a mark dead upwind sails seventy per cent further than the distance to it, and arrives first. The best angle is forty-five degrees plus half the apparent wind angle, it comes out of one line of trigonometry, and the same argument says to gybe downwind rather than run.

The left wall is not a speed, it is an angle drawn in speed coordinates. The V–n diagram: every combination of speed and load factor the aircraft can reach. The curved left boundary is the wing at its stalling angle — n = ½ρV²S C_Lmax /W, a parabola — and it is the same limit at every point along it. The flat top and bottom are the structure. Where the two meet is the corner speed, 56.6 metres per second here: the slowest speed at which the aircraft can reach its limit load factor, and therefore the speed at which it turns hardest. Above it the wing can pull more than the structure allows — at the never-exceed speed it could reach 9.6g before stalling — and the pilot's limit stops being the air. What is taught wrongly

An angle, not a speed

The number is printed in the handbook, marked in white on the airspeed indicator and used in every briefing, and the wing has no way of knowing it. A wing stalls at an angle. The speed at which an aeroplane reaches that angle is an answer with four other variables in it, and every one of them moves.

Lift and wave drag on a flat plate at Mach 2, exactly and to first order. The lift and wave-drag coefficients of a supersonic section against incidence, computed face by face from shocks and fans, with Ackeret's linear result dashed over them. The two agree to three decimal places at small angles and part company slowly — which is what a first-order theory is supposed to do, and evidence rather than tautology, since the two routes share no algebra. Compressible flow

Drag with nothing to rub

d'Alembert's paradox says a closed body in a steady, inviscid flow has no drag, and four essays on this site argue it and none of them is wrong. Above Mach one it is false — the flow is still inviscid, still steady, and the drag is real, finite and quadratic in incidence.

One calculation is about the animal; the other is about how fast it happens to be going. The mean lift coefficient required of each animal's wings, computed two ways, on a log scale. Treating the wings as fixed and flying them at the animal's forward speed gives answers spanning a factor of 29 — from 0.88 to 26 — because the number is governed by a speed that has nothing to do with how the animal makes its lift. Doing the flapping arithmetic gives answers spanning a factor of 1.90. And in a hover the fixed-wing calculation has no answer at all: there is no dynamic pressure, and no coefficient however large will do. That is the version of the famous claim that is actually true, and it is a statement about the calculation rather than about the bee. What is taught wrongly

The bee that cannot fly

The claim has a traceable origin and the calculation behind it was a real calculation done with the wrong velocity. Doing it with the right one gives a number an aerofoil might plausibly produce — and still leaves a gap, and the gap is what took another sixty years to close.

The stretch of surface that is boiling. The pressure coefficient along both surfaces of a section at 4 degrees, computed from the same potential-flow solution as the other ideal-flow aerofoil figures. The horizontal line is the vapour pressure at a cavitation number of 1: wherever the suction curve is above it, the liquid there has been pulled below its vapour pressure and is boiling at whatever temperature it happens to be. This section cavitates at any σ below 1.428. Fluids at work

When a body tears the water

A propeller blade moving fast enough pulls the pressure at its own surface below the vapour pressure of the liquid, and the water boils at whatever temperature it happens to be. Where that happens is decided by an inviscid calculation of the pressure along the blade.

Ninety microseconds, and most of it spent barely moving. The radius of a collapsing cavity against time, both as fractions of their own totals. The bubble spends most of the collapse near its original size and the last few per cent of the radius in the last fraction of a per cent of the time. The total is 91.47 microseconds for a millimetre cavity at one bar, computed by quadrature and agreeing with the closed form in gamma functions to a part in 10⁹. Fluids at work

The bubble that hammers

A vapour cavity swept into higher pressure does not deflate. It collapses, in ninety microseconds for a millimetre bubble, and the model that describes the collapse predicts a wall speed that reaches the speed of sound in water at three per cent of the original radius — which is to say it predicts its own failure, and locates it.

What the ground actually gives a wing. Induced drag near the ground as a fraction of the same wing's in free air, against height in spans, at constant lift. The ground is a plane of symmetry, so the wake is joined by a mirrored wake of opposite circulation below it, and the upwash from that image is what takes the drag away. At a tenth of a span the wing keeps 0.516 of its induced drag — a saving of 48 per cent — and by a span and a half the effect is 1.3 per cent and going. The lift is held fixed all the way along this curve: what the ground gives here is not more lift, it is the same lift for less drag, and the two are different claims about a landing aeroplane. What is taught wrongly

The cushion that is not there

Ground effect is usually explained as air trapped under the wing and compressed into a cushion. At the heights an aeroplane actually flies at, the air under the wing is moving at four fifths of flight speed and most of what the ground gives is a drag saving the story never mentions.

The air a wing carries along, and how little of it there is. The Blasius profile, in the wing's frame, with the free stream at one. No slip says the air at the surface is at rest relative to the surface, which in the ground's frame means it is moving with the wing — but only exactly at the wall. The deficit, integrated across the layer, is the displacement thickness: at a Reynolds number of 1e+6 and a metre of chord it is 1.72 millimetres of air moving at flight speed, which is the whole of what is 'carried'. The step drawn on the axis is that same deficit as a solid slab. A wing does not drag a blanket of air with it; it leaves a boundary layer behind it, and the layer is made of air that keeps being replaced. What is taught wrongly

The air a wing does not carry

No slip says the air touching a surface moves with it, and the usual reading is that a wing drags a blanket of air along. The blanket is 1.7 millimetres thick per metre of chord, it is different air every instant, and the drag it costs falls as it gets thicker.

Where the number says, and where it happens. Fourteen dimensionless groups on one logarithmic axis. The open circle on each row is the value at which the two terms the group compares are equal, which is one by the way the group is formed; the filled mark is the value at which the thing a reader cares about first changes by 1%. The bar between them is the distance the folklore phrase "of order one" hides, and it runs from nothing at all to a factor of 594. Regimes and numbers

What "of order one" is worth

A dimensionless group is built by comparing two terms, so it is one when the terms are equal — and that is the only thing it says. Where the behaviour actually changes is a separate question with a separate answer, and across fourteen groups on this site the two numbers differ by factors from one to five hundred and ninety-four.

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