Cavitation-Induced Microjets
Ultrasonic Vibrations
Ultrafast vibrations can break up droplets, mix fluids, and even tear voids in a liquid. Here, the Slow Mo Guys demonstrate each of these using an ultrasonic homogenizer, a piece of lab equipment capable of vibrating 30,000 times a second. (Image and video credit: The Slow Mo Guys) Read the full article
Breaking Bubbles
What do a nineteenth-century war ship, a sardine-hunting shark, and a viral bottle trick have in common? Cavitation! (Image and video credit: Physics Girl) Read the full article
Cavitation doesn't have to be driven by velocity; it happens when fluids are accelerated, too. (Image and research credit: Z. Pan et al.; submitted by A.J.F.)
The collapse of a bubble underwater doesn’t seem like a very important matter, but when it happens near a solid surface, like part of a ship, it can be incredibly destructive. This video, featuring numerical simulations of the bubble’s collapse, shows why.
When near a surface, the bubble’s collapse is asymmetric, and this asymmetry creates a powerful jet that pushes through the bubble and impacts the opposite side. That impact generates a shock wave that travels out toward the wall. As the bubble hits its minimum volume, a second shock front is generated. Both shock waves travel toward the wall and reflect off it, generating high pressure all along the surface. (Image and video credit: S. Beig and E. Johnson)
Laser-induced forward transfer (LIFT) is an industrial printing technique where a laser pulse aimed at a thin layer of ink creates a tiny jet that deposits the ink on a surface. In practice, the technique is plagued with reproducibility issues, in part because it’s difficult to produce only a single cavitation bubble when aiming a laser at the liquid layer. This is what we see above.
The laser pulse creates its initial bubble just above the middle of the liquid layer. Shock waves expand from that first bubble and quickly reflect off the liquid surface (top) and wall (bottom). When reflected, the shock waves become rarefaction waves, which reduce the pressure rather than increasing it. This helps trigger the clouds of tiny bubbles we see above and below the main bubble.
The effect is worst along the path of the laser pulse because that part of the liquid has been weakened by pre-heating, but impurities and dissolved gases in the liquid layer are also prone to bubble formation, as seen far from the bubble. The trouble with all these unintended bubbles is that they can easily rise to the surface, burst, and cause additional jets of ink that splatter where users don’t intend. (Image and research credit: M. Jalaal et al.; submitted by Maziyar J.)
When cavitation bubbles collapse, they can produce temperatures well over 2,000 Kelvin. Since cavitation near a surface can be so destructive, researchers have long wondered whether the high temperatures inside the bubble can be transmitted to nearby surfaces. A new set of numerical simulations provides some insight into that process. The researchers found that collapsing cavitation bubbles raised nearby wall temperatures in two ways: bubbles that were further away sent shock waves that heated the material, and nearby bubbles could contact the surface itself as they collapsed.
Heat transfer requires time, however; this is part of why quickly dunking your hand in liquid nitrogen and pulling it out likely won’t damage you. (Still, we don’t recommend it.) The cavitation bubbles could only transmit these high temperatures for less than 1 microsecond, which means that most materials won’t actually heat up to their melting temperature. The researchers did conclude, however, that softer materials exposed to frequent bubble collapses could show localized melting under the barrage. (Image credit: L. Krum; research credit: S. Beig et al.)
Cracking one’s knuckles produces an unmistakable popping noise that satisfies some and disconcerts others. The question of what exactly causes the popping noise has persisted for more than fifty years. It’s generally agreed that separating the two sides of a joint causes low enough pressures to form a cavitation bubble in the sinovial fluid of the joint. But researchers have been divided on whether it’s the formation or the collapse of this bubble that’s responsible for the sound. Studying the phenomenon firsthand is difficult with today’s imaging technologies -- none of them are fast enough to capture a behavior that takes only 300 milliseconds. As a result, scientists are turning to mathematical modeling and numerical simulation.
A recent study tackled the problem by modeling a joint that already contains a bubble and examining the bubble’s response to changes in pressure inside the joint. The pressure changes alter the bubble’s size and cause it to generate sound. When compared to experiments of people cracking their knuckles, the simulated sounds are remarkably similar in both amplitude and frequency. It’s not even necessary for the bubble to collapse completely to make the noise. Just a partial collapse is enough to sound just like that old, familiar pop. (Image credit: G. Kawchuk et al.; research credit: V. Chandran Suja and A. Barakat; via Gizmodo)
Cavitation -- the formation and collapse of low-pressure bubbles in a liquid -- can be highly destructive, shattering containers, stunning prey, and damaging machinery. Inside an enclosure, cavitation can happen repeatedly. Above, a spark is used to generate an initial cavitation bubble, which expands on the right side of the screen. After its maximum expansion, the bubble collapses, forming jets on either end that collide as the bubble shrinks. Shock waves form during the collapse, too, although in this case, they are not visible.
Those shock waves travel to either end of the tube, where they reflect. The reflected waves behave differently; they are now expansion waves rather than shock waves. Their passage causes lower pressure. The two expansion waves meet one another toward the left end of the tube, in the area where a cloud of secondary cavitation bubbles form after the first bubble collapses. Pressure waves continue to reflect back and forth in the tube, causing the leftover clouds of tiny bubbles to expand and contract. (Image credit: C. Ji et al., source)
One of the most striking things about snorkeling in the Galapagos was how loud it was underwater. There were hardly any boats nearby, but every time my ears dipped below the surface, I could hear a constant cacophony of sound. Some it came from waves against the sand, some of it was the sound of parrotfish nibbling on coral, but a lot of it was likely the work of a culprit I couldn’t see hidden in the sand: the pistol shrimp.
These small crustaceans hunt with an oversized claw capable of snapping shut at around 100 kph. When the two halves of the claw come together, they push out a high-speed jet of water. High velocity means low pressure - a low enough pressure, in fact, to drop nearby water below its vapor pressure, causing bubbles to form and expand. These cavitation bubbles collapse quickly under the hydrostatic pressure of the surrounding water, creating a distinctive pop that makes the pistol shrimp one of the loudest sea creatures around. (Image credit: BBC Earth Unplugged, source; research credit: M. Versluis et al.)
All week we’re celebrating the Galapagos Islands here on FYFD. Check out previous posts in the series here.