WaterUnderground

Water Underground

Of Karst! – short episodes about karst

Of Karst! – short episodes about karst

Post by Andreas Hartmann Assistant Professor in Hydrological Modeling and Water Resources at the University of Freiburg.

__________________________________________________

Episode 3 – Learning about karst by … KARST IN THE MOVIES!

Before writing about karst hydrology in “Of Karst! Episode 4”, I have been urged to present some more visual information on karst landforms. Of Karst! Episode 1 focused on the abundance of hilarious karst landforms in nature. This episode focusses more on the appearance of karst features in famous movies and TV programs that may be familiar to some of us, although we may not have watched them through the eyes of a karst fanatic at the time.

In the next episode, we follow the path of the water from the karstic surface with karstic towers and dolines, through caves and conduits, to spectacular karst springs where waters emerge to the surface.

Movie makers have their reasons to pick spectacular landscapes for their stories and, Of Karst!, those landscapes are crowded with karst features. Let’s begin with James Bond. Created in the 70s, “The Man with the Golden Gun” finds a spectacular showdown just in front of a lovely tower karst at the Khao Phing Kan island in Thailand. Tower karst is a karst landform that is, characterized by residual hills of limestone rising from a flat plain or the ocean.

Figure 1: Bonds‘ duel with villain Scaramanga in front of a tower karst rock (Khao Phing Kan, Thailand; http://www.criminalelement.com, http://www.marinaaonang.com)

Similar landforms were chosen as scenery for a recent remake of the King Kong saga. Fighting with intruders and evil monsters from the deep subsurface (karst caves?), Kong had the pleasure living on the beautiful Cat Ba Island in Northern Vietnam, whose characteristic landscape evolved due to the strong dissolution of limestone.

Figure 2: Silhouette of Kong between the Tower Karst mountains of Cat Ba Island located at Ha Long Bay, Vietnam (https://c1-zingpopculture.eb-cdn.com.au, http://www.baolau.com).

The opposite landform to tower karst landforms are karstic dolines, which occur commonly as funnel shaped depressions on the surface, also formed by carbonate rock dissolution. These depressions do not only funnel the water downwards to the subsurface, but also create favorable conditions for the installation of (very) large radio telescopes. The largest of those was built a couple of years ago in China but a similarly impressive one can be found in Puerto Rico, where James Bond had to deal with his evil competitor Trevelyan in “Goldeneye”.

Figure 3: Bond fighting with evil Trevelyan in Goldeneye high above the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico that was built just in the middle of a karst doline (https://i.pinimg.com, http://www.si-puertorico.com).

Underneath the tower karst and dolines, karst dissolution creates wide networks of karstic caves and conduits. With increasing dissolution of the carbonate rock, these features may also emerge at the surface, which was probably the case for the Azure Window at Malta. This karst landform was chosen as the background of a conversation of the famous Khaleesi and her spouse Drogo in “Game of Thrones”. Unfortunately, this amazing land form is not available for further movies as it was recently destroyed by a storm.

Figure 4: Khaleesi speaking to her beloved Drogo in Game of Thrones in front of the Azure Window in Malta (http://nypost.com).

Deeper in the subsurface, the famous Devetàshka cave in Bulgaria set the stage for a dramatic showdown in “The Expendables 2”, when Stalone’s plane crashed through the cave entrance that used to be the exit of groundwater flows emanating from karst. Imagine the tremendous amounts of water filling the karst system over thousands of years that are capable of forming a cave that can (almost) host an entire airplane!

Figure 5: Stalone’s plane crashing into the Devetàshka karstic cave in Bulgaria in The Expendables 2 (www.huffpost.com, www.wikipedia.org).

Due to the formation of dolines, caves and channels, karst springs are usually quite large in terms of their discharge. They also provide amazing sets for fantasy movies. Even though the springs of the St. Beatus Caves in Switzerland only inspired Tolkien for the scenery of the Rivendell, the town of the elves, their similarity is obvious.

Figure 6: Elves’ town Rivendell in Lord of the Rings, whose scenery was inspired by the karst spring of the St Beatus caves in Switzerland (http://www-images.theonering.org, http://tilomitra.com).

This movie-based tour through karst systems may have given you an impression how rainfall becomes discharge in karst systems. Of Karst!, Episode 4, will combine this impression with the hydrological, and more scientific point of view. It will speak to the complexity of these specific surface and subsurface land forms, and elaborate on why exploring and understanding these processes is worthwhile.

__________________________________________________

 

Andreas Hartmann is an Assistant Professor in Hydrological Modeling and Water Resources at the University of Freiburg. His primary field of interest is karst hydrology and hydrological modelling. Find out more at his personal webpage www.subsurface-heterogeneity.com

Where does the water in streams come from when it rains?

Where does the water in streams come from when it rains?

Post by Anne Jefferson, associate professor in the Department of Geology at Kent State University, in the United States.

__________________________________________________

The title of this blog post might seem like a question with an obvious answer, or even a silly question to pose on a blog devoted to groundwater, but if you don’t see the connection between streamflow and underground water, you need to keep reading.

Water in streams during storms does come from the sky, but often it’s not the water droplets falling in a particular rain storm that are going rushing down the stream during that storm. Very little precipitation falls directly on the stream channel, because streams occupy very little of the landscape. So most water in a stream has to travel over or under the ground to get there. Traveling from some random point in a catchment to a stream takes time, and there are usually other water molecules between the freshly fallen raindrop and the channel.

Water molecules that can’t infiltrate into the ground become surface runoff. Surface runoff tends to reach the stream channel fairly quickly, because the water molecules encounter much less flow resistance than water moving through soil or bedrock and because all of the other water molecules between them and the stream are also on the same downhill express lane to the stream. So a water molecule that becomes surface runoff can reach a stream minutes to hours after the raindrop first hit the land surface.

On the other hand, raindrops that infiltrate into the ground take a much more leisurely approach to reaching the stream. Underground, flow resistance is really high, relative to what surface runoff encounters, because the water molecules have to squeeze through tiny and tortuous open spaces between soil particles, roots, and rock. They may even be trapped by capillary forces or stick to mineral or organic surfaces. Plus, underground, there are lots of other water droplets also slowly making their way to the stream. Being a water molecule that goes underground to reach a stream is not so much taking an express lane, as joining the back of a barely moving traffic jam that stretches as far as the eye can see. In the minutes, hours, and days during which a stream runs high following a rainstorm, that poor underground water molecule may only have moved a few meters to a few hundred meters toward the channel. Indeed, its main function in joining the back of the traffic jam was to give a pressure wave nudge to the water molecules closer to the channel, urge them to get a move on, and increase the rate they discharge into the stream.

With those general concepts in mind, let’s turn our attention to humid, forested landscapes. Most rain will infiltrate into the soil, disappear underground, and join the back of the traffic jam. As a consequence, when we look at the water rushing along in a stream channel, during or shortly after a storm, mostly we are not seeing water that fell from the sky in the storm. We’re seeing the ghosts of storms past. Catchment hydrologists call this “old” water. To put some numbers on it, 60-80% of the volume of streamflow during and immediately following a storm is typically old water. Even at the peak of the streamflow, ~50% of the water in the stream is old water.

The Cuyahoga River in Kent, Ohio under low flow conditions, October 2017.

The Cuyahoga River in Kent, Ohio, at high flow, March 2014.

How did hydrologists figure out that the water in streams during storms is old water (at least in forested landscapes)? It would be virtually impossible to go out to a catchment and measure the water flowing across all possible surface runoff, soil water, and groundwater paths.

Wouldn’t it be convenient if there was some way to label the water molecules as new or old and then just count the ratio of new to old water molecules in the stream at a given time? Fortunately for hydrology, variations in the isotopes of hydrogen and oxygen in the water molecules provide just such a tracer. Beginning in the late 1960s, hydrologists realized that they could use the storm-to-storm differences in the isotopic ratios of rainfall to identify water that came from the most recent storm versus water that didn’t. Thus the technique of isotope hydrograph separation was born. The popularity of the method grew rapidly, hydrologists began to try it out in catchments all over the world. This led to more recent work carefully laying out the assumptions and limitations associated with the technique and developing ever more sophisticated methods of analysis. Even more important than the method itself was that hydrologists, confronted with the reality that most of the water in the stream during a storm was old, had to then come up with mechanistic explanations for how that was possible. I don’t think it’s hyperbolic to say that isotope hydrograph separation really helped revolutionize the field of catchment hydrology.

When I teach hydrology, I teach students that in our forested corners of Ohio the water in the stream during storms is old and I explain the mechanisms. But I also think it’s important for them to understand the technique that helped generate those insights, and so I make sure to teach them about isotope hydrograph separation. With the support of an NSF grant, I developed a teaching module that gives students a chance to work with real data and do their own hydrograph separation. My hope is that the exercise will give them a deeper appreciation of the technique, the assumptions and uncertainties it contains, and the insights it is able to provide. This teaching module is available on the SERC website for anyone to use in classes or just for fun. There are data to download, step-by-step directions, and links to related readings. If this post has spurred your interest in streamflow generation or isotope hydrograph separation, I encourage you to check it out. Other good places to learn more about applications of isotopes in hydrology at the SAHRA website or in this book chapter by Kevin McGuire and Jeff McDonnell.

Kent State students measuring discharge in the stream where we conducted the hydrograph separation.

__________________________________________________

Anne Jefferson is an associate professor in the Department of Geography at Kent State University. Anne‘s research focuses on watershed hydrology, groundwater-surface water interactions, and landscape evolution in human-altered and volcanic landscapes. Current projects of her’s focus on green infrastructure, stormwater management, and stream restoration. Keep up to date with Anne by clicking on any of the links below:

Research profile | Twitter | Personal Website

Groundwater organic matter: carbon source or sink?

Groundwater organic matter: carbon source or sink?

Post by Andy Baker, Professor researching groundwater, caves, past climate, organic carbon and more at the University of New South Wales, in Australia.

__________________________________________________

We know a lot about the carbon cycle, right? Increased carbon dioxide emissions since the Industrial Revolution have perturbed the carbon cycle. This has led to rising atmospheric carbon dioxide levels and climate change.

Not all this extra carbon accumulates in the atmosphere as carbon dioxide. Carbon sequestration is also occurring, for example in the oceans and terrestrial biosphere. All the carbon fluxes and stores on the planet must balance. In recent years there has been a hunt within the terrestrial system to quantify some missing carbon, such as the particulate organic carbon in river systems and dissolved organic carbon in glaciers.

So, what about groundwater? Could this be a previously unrecognised source or sink of carbon? We already know that the global volume of groundwater of 1.05 x 1019 litres is the world’s biggest source of freshwater. But groundwater natural organic carbon concentrations are low: typically, 1 part per million (ppm). This means that the global groundwater organic carbon store is just 10.5 x1015 g. For comparison, rivers are estimated to sequester this amount in just four years. Basically, there’s no significant store of organic carbon in groundwater.

But hold, on, this raises another puzzle, which is: where has all the organic carbon gone? Groundwater is recharged from rivers and from rainfall. Rivers have much more dissolved organic carbon than the 1 ppm found in groundwater. And the recharge from rainfall passes through the soil. And soil leachates also have much higher dissolved organic carbon concentrations than groundwater. So, despite the high concentrations of organic matter in the soil and rivers, most of this organic matter is ‘lost’ before reaching the groundwater. Is it biologically processed (and therefore a potential source of carbon dioxide)? Or is it sorbed to mineral surfaces (and therefore a potential sink of carbon)?  Most likely, both processes occur in competition.

Groundwater organic matter: a carbon source or sink? We don’t know. But a few groups are working on the puzzle. For example, our group at UNSW Sydney is collecting groundwater samples and measuring organic carbon sorption to minerals, and microbial use. In the USA, groundwater data has been mined to understand the rate of loss of organic carbon in groundwater. This December, river and groundwater experts come together at the AGU Fall Meeting to share our understanding. Not least because surface and groundwater are interconnected systems.

Collecting groundwater samples to understand whether organic matter is a carbon source or sink. Long field days at the UNSW Wellington Research Station mean the final sample is often collected at dusk.

__________________________________________________

 

Andy Baker is the Director of Research and UNSW’s School of Biological, Earth and Environmental Sciences. His research interests include hydrology, hydrogeology, cave and karst research, paleoclimatology, and isotope and organic and inorganic geochemistry. You can find out more information about Andy at any of the links below:

Research profile | Twitter | Facebook

Western water wells are going dry

Western water wells are going dry

Post by Scott Jasechko, Assistant Professor of Water Resources at the University of Calgary, in Canada, and by Debra PerronePostdoctoral Research Scholar at Stanford University, in the United States of America.

__________________________________________________

Wells are excavated structures, dug, drilled or driven into the ground to access groundwater for drinking, cleaning, irrigating, and cooling. We recently mapped groundwater wells across the 17 western states [1], where half of US groundwater pumping takes place. The western states contain aquifers key to United States food production, including the Central Valley of California and the central High Plains.

Millions of water wells exist in the western US, alone. About three-quarters of these wells have been constructed to supply water for household uses. Nearly one-quarter are used to irrigate crops or support livestock. A smaller fraction (<5 %) supports industry [1].

Western US water well depths vary widely (Fig. 1). The great majority (90%) of western US well depths range between 12m and 186m. The median western US well depth is 55m. Wells with depths exceeding 200m tap deep aquifers bearing fresh groundwater, such as the basal formations in the Denver Basin aquifer system, and the deeper alluvium in the California Central Valley. Shallow wells are common along perennial rivers, such as the Yellowstone, Platte, and Willamette Rivers.

Fig. 1. Western USA wells depths. Each point represents the location of a domestic, industrial or agricultural well. Blue colors indicate well depths of less than the median (55m), and red-black colors indicate well depths exceeding the median.

The wide variability of well depths across the west (Fig. 1) emphasizes the value of incorporating well depth data when assessing the likelihood that a groundwater well may go dry.

We know wells are going dry in the western US: journalists have identified numerous communities whose well-water supplies have been impacted by declining water tables [2-4]. While several studies have assessed adverse impacts of groundwater storage declines—such as streamflow depletion [5], coastal aquifer salinization [6], eustatic sea level rise [7], land subsidence [8]—few studies address the question: where have wells have gone dry?

Here we put forth a first estimate of the number of western US wells that have dried up (Fig. 2). We compared well depths to nearby well water level measurements made in recent years (2013-2015). We define wells that have likely gone dry as those with depths shallower than nearby measured well water levels (i.e., our estimate of the depth to groundwater).

Fig. 2. Schematic of a well that has gone dry (left) and a well with a bottom beneath the water table (blue) that may still produce groundwater (right). Even wells with submerged bottoms may be impacted by declines in groundwater storage because (i) pumps are situated above the well bottom, (ii) pumping induces a localized drawdown of the water table in unconfined portions of aquifer systems, (iii) well yields may decline if the hydrostatic pressure above the well base declines.

We estimate that between 0.5% and 6 % of western US wells have gone dry [1]. Dry wells are common in some areas where groundwater storage has declined, such as the California Central Valley [9] and parts of the central and southern High Plains aquifer [10,11]. We also identify lesser-studied regions where dry wells are abundant, such as regions surrounding the towns of Moriarty and Portales in central and eastern New Mexico.

Dry wells threaten the convenience of western US drinking water supplies and irrigated agriculture. Our findings emphasize that dry wells constitute yet another adverse impact of groundwater storage losses, in addition to streamflow depletion [5], seawater intrusion [6], sea level rise [7], and land subsidence [8].

Some wells are more resilient to drying (i.e., deeper) and others more vulnerable (i.e., shallower). We show that typical agricultural wells are deeper than typical domestic water wells in California’s Central Valley and Kansas’ west-central High Plains [1]. Our finding implies that reductions to groundwater storage will disproportionately dry domestic water wells compared to agricultural water wells, because domestic wells tend to be shallower in these areas. However, in other areas, such as the Denver Basin, typical domestic wells are deeper than typical agricultural wells. This comparison of different groundwater users’ well depths may help to identify water wells most vulnerable to groundwater depletion, should it occur.

So, what option does one have when a well goes dry?

Groundwater users whose wells have gone dry may consider a number of potential, short-term remedies, some of which may include (i) drilling a new well or deepening an existing well, (ii) connecting to alternative water sources (e.g., water conveyed by centralized infrastructure; water flowing in nearby streams), or (iii) receiving water delivered by truck.

Drilling new wells, deepening existing wells or connecting to alternate water supplies is often costly or unavailable, raising issues of inequality [12]. Receiving water deliveries via truck [13] is but a stopgap, one that may exist in parts of the western United States but not elsewhere, especially if high-use activities (e.g., irrigated agriculture) are intended [14]. In places where water table declines are caused primarily by unsustainable groundwater use, a long-term solution to drying wells may be managing groundwater to stabilize storage or create storage surpluses.

Realizing such sustainable groundwater futures where wells are drying up is a critical challenge. Doing so will be key to meeting household water needs and conserving irrigated agriculture practices for future generations [15]. We conclude that groundwater wells are going dry, highlighting that declining groundwater resources are impacting the usefulness of existing groundwater infrastructure (i.e., wells). The drying of groundwater wells could be considered more frequently when measuring the impacts of groundwater storage declines.

__________________________________________________

Scott Jasechko is an assistant professor of water resources at the University of Calgary. In November 2017, Scott joins the faculty of the Bren School of Environmental Science & Management at the University of California, Santa Barbara.

Find out more about Scott’s research at : http://www.isohydro.ca

 

 

 

Debra Perrone is a postdoctoral research scholar at Stanford University with a duel appointment in the Department of Civil and Environmental Engineering and the Woods Institute for the Environment. In November 2017, Debra will join the Environmental Studies Program at the University of California, Santa Barbara as an assistant professor.

Find out more about Debra at: http://debraperrone.weebly.com

 

__________________________________________________

References

[1] Perrone D and Jasechko S 2017 Dry groundwater wells in the western United States. Environmental Research Letters 12, 104002 doi: 10.1088/1748-9326/aa8ac0. http://iopscience.iop.org/article/10.1088/1748-9326/aa8ac0

[2] James I, Elfers S, Reilly S et al 2015 The global crisis of vanishing groundwaters. in: USA Today https://www.usatoday.com/pages/interactives/groundwater/

[3] Walton B 2015 In California’s Central Valley, Dry wells multiply in the summer heat. in: Circle of Blue http://www.circleofblue.org/2015/world/in-californias-central-valley-dry-wells-multiply-in-the-summer-heat/

[4] Fleck J 2013 When the well runs dry. in: Albuquerque Journal https://www.abqjournal.com/216274/when-the-well-runs-dry.html

[5] Barlow P M and Leake S A 2012 Streamflow depletion by wells—understanding and managing the effects of groundwater pumping on streamflow. US Geological Survey Circular 1376 (Reston, VA: United States Geological Survey)

[6] Barlow P M, Reichard E G 2010 Saltwater intrusion in coastal regions of North America. Hydrogeol. J. 18 247-260.

[7] Konikow L F 2011 Contribution of global groundwater depletion since 1900 to sea-level rise. Geophys. Res. Lett. 38 L17401

[8] Galloway D, Jones D R and Ingebritsen S E 1999 Land subsidence in the United States. US Geological Survey Circular 1182 (Reston, VA: United States Geological Survey)

[9] Famiglietti J S, Lo M, Ho S L, Bethune J, Anderson K J, Syed T H, Swenson S C, Linage C R D and Rodell M 2011 Satellites measure recent rates of groundwater depletion in California’s Central Valley. Geophys. Res. Lett. 38 L03403

[10] McGuire V L 2014 Water-level Changes and Change in Water in Storage in the High Plains Aquifer, Predevelopment to 2013 and 2011–13  (Reston, VA: United States Geological Survey)

[11] Scanlon B R, Faunt C C, Longuevergne L, Reedy R C, Alley W M, Mcguire V L and McMahon P B 2012 Groundwater depletion and sustainability of irrigation in the US High Plains and Central Valley. Proc. Natl Acad. Sci. 109 9320–5

[12] Famiglietti J S 2014 The global groundwater crisis. Nature Climate Change 4 945-948.

[13] The Times Editorial Board 2016 When it comes to water, do not keep on trucking. in: LA Times http://www.latimes.com/opinion/editorials/la-ed-water-hauling-20160729-snap-story.html

[14] James I 2015 Dry springs and dead orchards. in: Desert Sun http://www.desertsun.com/story/news/environment/2015/12/10/morocco-groundwater-depletion-africa/76788024/

[15] Bedford L 2017 Irrigation, innovation saving water in Kansas. in: agriculture.com http://www.agriculture.com/machinery/irrigation-equipment/irrigation-innovation-saving-water-in-kansas

Everything is connected

Everything is connected

Post by Anne Van Loon, Lecturer in Physical Geography (Water sciences) at the University of Birmingham, in the United Kingdom.

__________________________________________________

In recent years the human dimension of hydrology has become increasingly important. Major flood and drought events have shown how strongly water and society are intertwined (see here and here). The hydro(geo)logical research community is increasingly including this human dimension, for example within the IAHS Panta Rhei decade (link), which focuses on the interface between environment and society and aims to “make predictions of water resources dynamics to support sustainable societal development”. Previous Water Underground blog posts have shown the importance of this topic and highlighted opportunities and methodologies for scientists to engage with socio-hydro(geo)logy and humanitarian projects. Viviana Re, for example, introduces the term socio-hydrogeology and promotes sustainable groundwater management in alliance with groundwater users (link). And Margaret Shanafield argues that humanitarian groundwater projects are “an opportunity for scientists to have an impact on the world by contributing to the collective understanding of water resources and hydrologic systems” (link).

In our interdisciplinary project CreativeDrought (link), which uses local knowledge and natural and social science methods to increase local preparedness for uncertain future drought, we are applying these ideas and we realise how important different types of connections are in our two-way learning process. We just completed our second fieldwork phase of the project that consisted of workshops in which groups of people from a rural community in South Africa experimented with potential future drought scenarios and created stories about how they would be impacted by the drought and what they could do to prepare for and adapt to it. Our scientific team consisted of hydrologists and social scientists from local and UK-based institutes and the groups in the community who participated were the village leaders, livestock farmers, irrigation farmers, young mothers, and elderly people.

Young women collecting water from communal standpipe (photo: Sally Rangecroft).

Both the scientific team and the community groups were interested to learn from each other’s knowledge and experience (or just curious, see photo below of our Zimbabwean colleague Eugine measuring irrigation canal discharge with an apple). During the time we spent in the community (four weeks in March/April and two weeks in July) we both learned about important connections. As hydrologists and hydrogeologists we know that different parts of the hydrological system are connected and that these connections are extremely important if you want to understand, predict, and manage the system. Knowledge about the connection between groundwater and surface water is what we as hydrologists could bring to the community. The community was getting their water from different sources: drinking water from a groundwater well, irrigation water from a reservoir that releases water into the river, and water for bathing, washing, brick making, and cleaning cars from the river. By showing how a drought would affect each of these water supplies and discussing amongst groups that would be affected differently by a drought, they learned about the connection between the water bodies and how abstraction in one would affect the other.

Researchers measuring discharge with help of schoolchildren and collecting stories about previous droughts and floods (photos: Anne Van Loon and Sally Rangecroft).

We scientists also learned some important connections from the community. For example, our project focuses on drought but when we asked the community to tell us about droughts they had experienced in the past, many also told us about flood events. For the community, both are water-related extreme events that often even impact them similarly, with crop loss, drinking water problems, diseases, etc. Even though floods and droughts are governed by different processes (floods by fast, mostly near-surface pathways and droughts by slower, sub-surface storage related pathways) and different tools and indices are used to characterise both extremes, people at local scale have to deal with both floods and droughts when the hydrological system goes from one into the other or when both occur simultaneously in different parts of the hydrological system. We realised that our academic world is so fragmented that we often forget about connecting floods and droughts in our scientific work. Furthermore, we forget that we may affect one hydrological extreme when trying to manage our resources for the opposite hydrological extreme.

The most important, but unintended connections we discovered, however, were the connections between people. During our stays in South Africa, we connected as hydrologists and social scientists and between the UK-based and local researchers, learning to communicate across different disciplines, languages and audiences. The project also helped the community rediscover some connections between generations (young mothers and elderly ladies) and between different sectors (livestock farmers and irrigation farmers). And finally, we as a scientific team connected with the community. As a token for our newly established connection, the children’s dance group performed traditional dances during our final visit with the chief and the village leaders (see below), only bestowed on very special guests. That is the best confirmation we could get that personal connections are important and that our water management and our science depend on them!

Everyone connected: researchers, village leaders, dancers (photo: Khathutshelo Muthala).

__________________________________________________

Anne Van Loon is a catchment hydrologist and hydrogeologist working on drought. She studies the relationship between climate, landscape/ geology, and hydrological extremes and its variation around the world. She is especially interested in the influence of storage in groundwater, human activities, and cold conditions (snow and glaciers) on the development of drought.

Bio taken from Anne’s University of Birmingham page.

Crowdfunding Science: A personal journey toward a public campaign

Crowdfunding Science: A personal journey toward a public campaign

Post by Jared van Rooyen, MSc candidate in Earth Science at Stellenbosch University, in South Africa.

Part one of three in a Crowdfunding Science series by Jared.

___________________________________________________________

When my supervisor, Dr Jodie Miller, suggested to me last year that we should look at crowdfunding as a way to potentially to fund my master’s project, I had no idea of what I was about to get myself into. All through my honours year I was not really interested in doing further postgraduate study. She kept warning me that I might change my mind and that I should apply for funding “just in case”. But I was sure of my position.  And then, as I started the final five weeks of my honours year, I finally got to focus 100% on my research project. Suddenly, as I focused in on my data, all the possibilities started to leap out at me. I went from a BSc (Hons) student, who was not considering continuing my postgraduate studies at all, to someone who is passionate about water resource research and continuing my postgraduate career. This is apparently common amongst postgraduate students in science, who become exponentially more immersed in their field of study as they realise that their work isn’t just numbers and experiments, but has significant real world applications.

Once I had committed – there was no turning back. The learning curve for mounting a successful crowdfunding campaign is steep and slippery. As much as it is hard, stressful work it is also fulfilling, fun, and full of surprises. The biggest obstacle is one that most modern day scientists are confronted with already: How do I make my research attractive to people who don’t have years of passion invested in my work?

Well, the answer is not simple.

I have completed a wide variety of modules in my tertiary studies but none in any forms of multi-media marketing skills. So naturally, when I had this crowdfunding campaign in front of me, I was so far out of my comfort zone that I felt like a geologist at a slam poetry evening. After numerous conversations with my peers who had experiences in marketing and graphic design, I had gathered a basic understanding of the inner workings of the unfathomably enormous media machine.

From the very first day I arrived back at the University in Stellenbosch I was drowning in ideas and administration. Setting up the social media accounts alone was a mission. Little did I know that running a social media campaign takes days and even weeks of preparation and planning each public post, including the post’s time, target market, outcome goals, and context. Each post on each platform had to be vetted and boosted appropriately. I was genuinely missing the late nights combing through complicated scientific articles and pounding through textbooks.

Making the campaign video was by far the hardest but definitely the most fun part of the process. The hours and hours of footage I have of retakes and drone videos culminated in, what I believe, is the pinnacle of my creative career (which is minuscule).

About a week before the initial launch date, we ran into some red tape within the University. Naturally, as someone who has never done anything more than post a couple photos of rocks on Instagram, I had no idea that a project like this needed to go through a number of stages before being approved by the university (which included: legal, ethics, corporate, marketing, and the faculty itself). A couple of panic-ridden meetings and documents later, we were ready for lift off, although a week later than originally planned.

As a geologist, I am not afraid of hard work, so engulfing myself in learning as much as I could in the little time I had came more naturally. What was most intimidating though, was the thought of putting myself and what I am passionate about out there. Publicly declaring the fact that what I wanted to achieve was not funded was daunting at first, but in time became a revelation in self-awareness and that asking for help is more constructive than admitting defeat.

I believe that postgraduate crowdfunding may prove to be invaluable in the future of students that have all the potential but their projects remain unfunded. Not only does it allow for the financial security of your project, but it attracts people that are interested in your field to you and to your work. The most significant consequence of this crowdfunding approach is that when you graduate, you already have a network of people in the industry that know who you are and know of your potential.

The crowdfunding campaign was completed in early April of 2017. In the next blog I will talk about what worked and what didn’t work, who pledged funding and how did we reach them.

___________________________________________________________

Jared van Rooyen is an MSc student at the University of Stellenbosch in South Africa. His primary field of interest is in isotope hydrology with major applications in groundwater vulnerability and sustainability. Other research interests include postgraduate research funding solutions and outreach as well as scientific engagement with the use of modern media techniques.

 

Check out Jared’s (and research group’s) thundafund  page here.

Humanitarian groundwater projects; notes on motivations from the academic world

Humanitarian groundwater projects; notes on motivations from the academic world

Post by Margaret Shanafield, ARC DECRA Senior Hydrogeology/Hydrology Researcher at Flinders University, in Australia. You can follow Margaret on Twitter at @shanagland.

___________________________________________________________

What led me down the slippery slope into a career in hydrology and then hydrogeology, was a desire to combine my love of traveling with a desire to have a deeper relationship with the places I was going, and be able to contribute something positive while there. I figured everyone needs water, and almost everyone has either too much (flooding) or too little of it.

But, from an academic point of view, aid/humanitarian/philanthropic projects can be frustrating and offer few of the traditional paybacks that universities and academia reward.  Last week, for example, I spent much of my time working on the annual report for an unpaid project, and I am soft money funded. And what’s worse, I couldn’t even get the report finished, because most of the project partners hadn’t given me their updates on time. When I went across the hall to complain to my colleague, he admitted that he, too, was in a similar situation.

So what is the incentive?

Globally, the need for regional hydrologic humanitarian efforts is obvious. Even today, 1,000 children die due to diarrhoeal diseases on a daily basis. Water scarcity affects 40% of global population, with 1.7 billion people dependent on groundwater basins where the water extraction is higher than the recharge.  And, the lack of water availability is only going to get worse into the future.

But being a researcher with pressure to “publish or perish” and find ways to fund myself and my research, what was/is my incentive to address these problems? From an academic point of view, water aid projects are often time-consuming, with expected timelines delayed by language and cultural barriers, difficulties in obtaining background data, expectations on each side of the project not matching up, and activities and communication not happening on the timescales academics are used to. And the results are typically hard to publish.

An online search revealed numerous articles discussing the pros and cons of pursuing a career in development work, including: having a job aligned with one’s morals and values, an exciting lifestyle full of change, motivated co-workers, the opportunity to see the world and different cultures, the opportunity to make a difference, and last but not least, because it is a challenge (in a good way).

As a scientist, I get elements of all these pros in my daily work. But, while much of what academics do fits under the umbrella of “intellectually challenging”, aid projects provide applied problems with real-world implications that can sometimes be lacking in the heavily research-focused academic realm, except for the creative “broader impacts” and outreach sections of grant proposals. They are therefore an opportunity for scientists to have an impact on the world by contributing to the collective understanding of water resources and hydrologic systems. And hey, many of us enjoy travelling and get to visit interesting places for work, too.

Pulling myself out of my philosophical waxings, I focused on these highlights and the benefits of working in an interdisciplinary project to address some of those global problems I mentioned earlier – and got back to report writing.

Training project partners in Vietnam to take shallow geophysical measurements (left). Sweaty days in the field are rewarded by cheap beers, magnificent sunrises, and relaxing evenings at the coast where the river meets the sea (right). Photos by M Shanafield.

___________________________________________________________

Margaret Shanafield‘s research is at the nexus between hydrology and hydrogeology. Her current research interests still focus on surface water-groundwater actions, although she work’s on a diverse set of projects from international development projects to ecohydrology. The use of multiple tracers to understand groundwater recharge patterns in streambeds and understanding the dynamics of intermittent and ephemeral streamflow are her main passions. Since 2015, she has been an ARC DECRA fellow, measuring and modelling what hydrologic factors lead to streamflow in arid regions. You can find out more about Margaret on her website.

Good groundwater management makes for good neighbors

Good groundwater management makes for good neighbors

Post by Samuel Zipper, postdoctoral fellow at both McGill University and the University of Victoria, in Canada. You can follow Sam on Twitter at @ZipperSam.

___________________________________________________________

Dedicated Water Underground readers know that this blog is not just about water science, but also some of the more cultural impacts of groundwater. Keeping in that tradition, today’s post begins with a joke*:

Knock, knock!

Who’s there?

Your neighbor

Your neighbor who?

Your neighbor’s groundwater, here to provide water for your plants!

Figure 1. Typical reaction to joke written by the author.

Ahem.

Perhaps this joke needs a little explanation. As we’ve covered before, groundwater is important not just as a supply of water for humans, rivers, and lakes, but also because it can increase the water available to plants, making ecosystems more drought resistant and productive. However, we also know that groundwater moves from place to place beneath the surface. This means that human actions which affect groundwater in one location, like increasing the amount of paved surface, might have an unexpected impact on ecosystems in nearby areas which depend on that groundwater.

Imagine, for example, two neighboring farmers. Farmer A decides retire and sells his land to a developer to put in a new, concrete-rich shopping center. Farmer B continues farming her land next door. How will the changes next door affect the groundwater beneath Farmer B’s land, and will this help or hurt crop production on her farm?

In a new study, my colleagues and I explored these questions using a series of computer simulations. We converted different percentages of a watershed from corn to concrete to see what would happen. Our results showed that the response of crops to urbanization depended on where the land use change occurred.

Figure 2. Conceptual diagram showing how urbanization might impact crop yield elsewhere in a watershed. From Zipper et al. (2017).

In upland areas where the water table was deep, replacing crops with concrete caused a reduction in groundwater recharge, lowering the water table everywhere in the watershed – not just beneath the places where urbanization occurred. This meant that places where the ecosystems used to be reliant on groundwater could no longer tap into this resources, making them more vulnerable to drought. However, places where the water table used to be too shallow saw boosts in productivity, as the lower water table was closer to the optimum water table depth.

In contrast, urbanization happening in lowland areas had a much more localized effect, with changes to the water table and yield occurring primarily only in the location where land use changed, because the changes in groundwater recharge were accounted for by increased inflows from the stream into the groundwater system.

So, what does this mean for the neighboring farmers we met earlier?

For Farmer A, it means the neighborly thing to do is work with the developers to minimize the effects of the land use change on groundwater recharge. This can include green infrastructure practices such as rain gardens or permeable pavement to try and mimic predevelopment groundwater recharge.

For Farmer B, the impacts depend on the groundwater depth beneath her farm. If the groundwater beneath her farm is shallow enough that her crops tap into that water supply, she should expect changes in the productivity of her crops, especially during dry periods, and plan accordingly.

*Joke written by scientist, rather than actual comedian.

___________________________________________________________

For More Information:

Zipper SC, ME Soylu, CJ Kucharik, SP Loheide II. Indirect groundwater-mediated effects of urbanization on agroecosystem productivity: Introducing MODFLOW-AgroIBIS (MAGI), a complete critical zone model. Ecological Modelling, 359: 201-219. DOI: 10.1016/j.ecolmodel.2017.06.002

___________________________________________________________

 

Sam Zipper is an ecohydrologist. His main research focuses broadly on interactions between vegetation and the water cycle, with a particular interest in unintended or indirect impacts of land use change on ecosystems resulting from altered surface and subsurface hydrological flowpaths. You can find out more about Sam by going to his webpage at: samzipper.weebly.com.

Of Karst! – short episodes about karst

Of Karst! – short episodes about karst

Episode 2: Dissolving rock? (or, how karst evolves).

Post by Andreas Hartmann, Lecturer in Hydrology at the University of Freiburg (Universität Freiburg), in Germany. You can follow Andreas on twitter at @sub_heterogenty.

Didn’t get to read Episode 1? Click this link here to do so!

___________________________________________________________

In the previous episode, I introduced karst by showing how it looks in different regions in the world. This episode will now deal with the processes that create such amazing surface and subsurface landforms. The widely used term “karstification” refers to the chemical weathering of easily soluble rock composed of carbonate rock or gypsum. Most typical is karstification of limestone (consisting of the mineral calcite, CaCO3) or dolostone (consisting of the mineral dolomite, CaMg(CO3)2). If exposed to CO2 rich water these rocks are dissolved to form aqueous calcium (Ca2+) or magnesium (Mg2+) and bicarbonate (HCO3 ) ions. For calcite, karstification is described by the following chemical equilibrium:

The dissolution of carbonate rock depends on various factors. Imagine a solid block of salt, which you pour water on. If completely solid, the water will flow down the salt surface slowly dissolving the block. If fractured, water will eventually enlarge the fractures in the salt block and dissolution will occur much faster. Now imagine smashing the salt block before pouring water on it. In such circumstances the salt will dissolve even faster as the surface area exposed to the water is much larger.

Karst and its evolution (educational video provided by Jennifer Calva on Youtube).

The same is true for karstification. If the carbonate rock is heavily fractured, it will dissolve faster than unfractured carbonate rock. Another factor is the availability of CO2, that depends on the relative amount of CO2 in the air, air temperature and soil microbiotic processes. Other factors are the purity of the carbonate rock, the availability of water, and the supply of CO2 from the surface. As soon as karstification takes place, more water will be able to pass the dissolution enlarged fractures providing more and more CO2, and creating a positive feedback between rock dissolution and water flow:

Positive feedback between carbonate rock dissolution and water flow (Hartmann et al., 2014, modified).

The hydrochemical processes described in this episode of the Of Karst! Series not only create beautiful karst landscapes but they also have a strong and particular impact on water flow paths in the subsurface, which will the topic of episode 4 that can be expected in early 2018. Before, I will present a special feature about karst in the movies as topic of episode 3 in autumn 2017.

Further reading

Hartmann, A., Goldscheider, N., Wagener, T., Lange, J. & Weiler, M. 2014. Karst water resources in a changing world: Review of hydrological modeling approaches. Reviews of Geophysics, 52, 218–242, doi: 10.1002/2013rg000443.

Ford, D.C. & Williams, P.W. 2013. Karst Hydrogeology and Geomorphology. John Wiley & Sons, 576 pages.

___________________________________________________________

 

 

Andreas Hartmann is a lecturer in Hydrology at the University of Freiburg. His primary field of interest is karst hydrology and hydrological modelling. Find out more at his personal webpage www.subsurface-heterogeneity.com.