Two Fine Books of Science

As we enter the critical book buying season (hint-hint), I would like to recommend two recent books. Both focus on science and even better perfectly complement each other. They would make a nice pair of presents for anyone interested in understanding science and the passions that drive scientists. The books are Darwin’s Armada: Four Voyages and the Battle for the Theory of Evolution by Iain McCalman and The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science by Richard Holmes. Holmes’ book came out in 2008 and McCalman’s in 2009.

Dense, yet readable, Age of Wonder focuses on what Holmes calls the second scientific revolution, inspired by novel developments in astronomy and chemistry. (The first revolution centered around Newton.) Holmes book ends his period around two legendary voyages: James Cooks’ round-the-world expedition started in 1768 and Charles Darwin’s voyage in the HMS Beagle, which ended in 1836. It was a period of brilliant insights, dangerous experimentation with electricity and nasty chemicals, and lone scientists devoted to pushing the frontiers of their subjects.

Holmes does an excellent job of detailing the lives of his vast cast of characters, which ranges from chemist Humphry Davy to astronomer William Herschel to novelist Mary Shelley to explorer Mungo Park (what a cool name to have!). In presenting Herschel and his work, Holmes clearly shows how Herschel, the man who found Uranus (the first planet discovered in more than 1,000 years), couldn’t have succeeded without his equally talented sister Caroline. Davy also stands out for his work with laughing gas, development of a safe, underground mining lamp, and popular lectures on science, which drew hundreds. In addition, Holmes interfingers the science with poetry through the work of Samuel Coleridge and William Wordsworth.

Coincidentally, Darwin’s Armada picks up exactly where Age of Wonder stops. McCalman details the formative voyages and expeditions of Darwin, botanist Joseph Hooker, Thomas Huxley, and Alfred Russell Wallace. Less dense and a bit lighter in tone, Armada shows how their work in the southern hemisphere shaped each man’s understanding of science and the natural world and in turn led them down the paths to insights into evolution. And once on those paths, these four men were the prime movers in discussing, debating, and fleshing out natural selection. McCalman also shows how the four became deep friends who helped each other through scientific, family, and financial challenges.

In reading each of these books, I was constantly amazed to see the excitement of new discoveries but also the dangers of working with new materials and visiting wild places. It is a wonder at times that any of the great scientists discussed here didn’t die young. We are fortunate they didn’t and fortunate that they come to life in the pages of these two fine books.

The Barnacle and The Building

Phil Bock discovered a new barnacle species in an unlikely place in 2006. He wasn’t in the typical environment for barnacles, in shallow water, but on the steps of the Old Magistrates’ Court in downtown Melbourne, Australia. The building, now managed by Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) University, is made of Miocene age Batesford Limestone, which was deposited in a warm, subtropical sea on the shallow waters of the inner-shelf. The Batesford is highly fossiliferous with at least 12 species known from the Old Magistrates Court walls. Bock, a retired RMIT geologist, noticed the small barnacle at the base of column and then alerted John Buckeridge, a barnacle specialist at RMIT.

The Barnacle before removal (photo used courtesy of John Buckeridge)

Buckeridge recognized the specimen as a member of the genus Tetraclitella but that it was an unusual one, which prompted a formal analysis. Tetraclitid barnacles generally live in high energy environments in the Indo-Pacific region, with 10 extant species and three known only from fossils. Because of their high energy environment, they tend not to fossilize, particularly as complete specimens. Buckeridge wrote in 2008, however, that “against all odds, [this barnacle] has survived transport to deeper, quieter conditions within a submarine slurry approximately 19 million years ago.” (Integrative Zoology, vol. 3, pg. 68-74, 2008)

Where the barnacle was found (photo used courtesy of John Buckeridge)

In order to study the barnacle, Buckeridge proposed to remove it from the structure, but he faced a problem. Under the Heritage Act of 1995, established in part to protect Melbourne’s historic buildings from urban renewal, it is illegal to remove, damage, or alter protected buildings. He knew the risks weren’t large, as it would require minimal surgery to remove the barnacle, but he still applied for a permit. He further worried that if the barnacle was reported and described someone less ethical might try to remove it.

The Old Magistrates Court (photo used courtesy of John Buckeridge)

Fortunately, Buckeridge’s request passed muster and in March 2006, under the lights and cameras of television crews, he got his barnacle, though during the final stage the edge of the fossil cracked. This was fortuitous as it facilitated a more thorough study of the fossil. The surgery left a scar 78 millimeters wide and 20 millimeters deep, which will slowly weather and fade to match the rest of the building.

The post removal scar (photo used courtesy of John Buckeridge)

Two years after obtaining his new specimen, Buckeridge published a paper formally naming it. (Zootaxa 1897, 43-52, 2008) In honor of its type locality, he dubbed the barnacle Tetraclitella judiciae. It is quite a handsome little beast and shows the importance of paying attention. You never know where you’ll find an interesting story.

Burps, Coprolites, and Puckers - GSA in Review

As with other geobloggers I had a fine and chaotic time at GSA. Here are a few fun highlights of my time in Portland.

Puckers and Pull Throughs – Lidya Tarhan gave an interesting talk on enigmatic, Ediacaran biogenic structures, consisting of mostly parallel lineations extending out from a flat surface. The shapes have been dubbed “mops” for their resemblance to the famed cleaning apparatus. Ranging in size from centimeters to decimeters, the mops formed when flowing water pulled on the frond-like upper part of ubiquitous Ediacaran species, Aspidella, and then uprooted the Aspidella by its holdfasts. Tarhan referred to the mops as a unique “action shot” of the Ediacaran. Who needs digital when you have stone?

Drink Up – Kevin Pogue’s talk asked “Can you taste basalt in wine?” Yes and no was the answer with a caution that there is a whole lot of “fluff and BS” put out by oenophilic propagandists. He found that grapes grow in basalt-derived soils from the Azores (directly in pahoehoe) to the Canary Islands (in basalt pits) to eastern Washington (in Jory soils). Basalt’s main influence seems to be through its effect on soil and air temperatures, though his most compelling observation was that the great weight of the Columbia Plateau flood basalts made viticulture possible in eastern Washington because it depressed the land surface resulting in a warmer climate. Here’s to basalt! Cheers!

Cambrian Coprolites – Being a fan of all things coprolitic, I was excited to read of the title for Whitey Hagadorn’s talk: Cambrian coprolites. Unfortunately, he offered credible evidence that much of what people have described as Cambrian poop had not “passed through the anus of an organism.” He did propose that some of the elongated masses could be coprolites but they needed further study. Sounds like a PhD dissertation to me.

Mammoth Burps – Moving from one end of the body to the other, Felisa Smith presented a fun thought experiment on whether the Pleistocene extinction of herbivorous megafauna could have altered the climate by reducing the production of methane. Yes, was her answer with many caveat emptors. She and her colleagues found that the elimination of such big burpers as mammoths, mastodons, bison, and sloths could account for a 12.5 to 100% reduction in methane, which in turn could have contributed to causing the Younger Dryas. This certainly seems as plausible an idea as the impact theory for causing the Younger Dryas. (If you missed the Wednesday morning sessions, it wasn’t pretty as speaker after speaker trashed the evidence for an impact-induced climate change 12.9 ka.)

Quotes – I like to end with a few things I heard.

In a discussion about those who don’t believe in evolution, Kevin Padian referred to the other side’s “fake, crypto-science non-sense.”

At the same session Randy Olsen said that his biggest concern in science is the “anti-science movement.”

“Comets and Clovis and Mammoths Oh My” – title of slide by Vance Holliday

“You could probably sweep the floor here and find magnetic and carbon microspherules.” Speaker at one session on the Younger Dryas impact event

“They use primitive methods.” Todd Surovell, in reference to a question about why his data was the opposite of some unnamed researchers studying the Younger Dryas

“The client refused to pay so we sued his butt.” Wayne Isphording, in reference to a group who wanted Ishording’s lab to prove that they had real Apollo 11 soil samples. The samples were fake, and if they had been real, they would have been illegal to own.

GSA - Portland Building Stone Update

A quick follow up to my pre-GSA Portland building stone blog. Here are a few more photos of the First Congregation Church. It is a quite handsome building. I have no idea where the stone for the columns comes from but it beautifully complements the sandstone.

Unfortunately, one of the structures I mentioned in my previous post is no longer there. The Belgium basalt cobble wall is gone, replaced by an ugly cinder block wall. Apparently the wall had cracked and become “dangerous.” I won’t add to the ugliness by posting a photo.

In contrast, I did stop by the historic central library for Multnomah County (SW 10^th Ave. and SW Yamhill St.) Opened in 1917, it is a brick building with highlights of Salem Limestone. It is very rich in fossils, which stand out in places where the softer, surrounding matrix has weathered and eroded more. Plus, I was quite taken with this panel of names. A rather nice cast of scientific characters.

And finally, I also found another Morton Gneiss building, on the south side of Burnside between NW 9^th and NW 8^th Avenue (just a block away from Powells). Again, the building is architecturally uninspired but with gorgeous stone. This time, however, the builders chose to use a white marble with black streaks instead of limestone. I suspect it is a Vermont marble. That’s all for now.

Portland Building Stones for GSA

With GSA just around the corner, I thought I would highlight some of the local building stones in Portland. Most of what I will be discussing is across the river, in the downtown part of the city. The area is a short walk from the convention center and perhaps might offer a welcome diversion when you get glassy eyed during a talk or two.

I will start with some of the local stones used in buildings. One of the best showcases is the First Congregation Church on the southwest corner of Madison and Park Avenue. Started in 1880 but not completed till 1895, the church formerly had three towers, but only the 185-foot-tall one remains. The base is made of black Oregon basalt, from one of the many great Columbia Plateau basalt flows. These flood basalts, which erupted primarily from 17 mya to 15 mya, are the second most voluminous on the planet. They cover much of the Columbia Plateau, and flowed down the Columbia River basin to Portland. Outcrops of the basalt occur throughout Portland.

The First Congregational Church (from Trey Rice's Flickr account)

Nestled around the basalt, and checkerboarded with it on the south wall, is the Tenino sandstone, from quarries 20 miles south of Olympia, Washington. Streams washing across a pre-Cascades landscape deposited the sands into deltas that poured into the Pacific Ocean. Fossils found in other parts of the region show that the climate was sub-tropical with abundant growth of palms. The Tenino deposits have been dated at around 50mya. Gray-greenish in color, they provide a nice contrast to the black basalt.

Curiously, basalt cobbles are also used in a rubble wall on the block surrounded by Fourth and Fifth and Market and Mill, but the stones are not from Oregon. Instead, they are Belgian basalt used as ballast in ships that offloaded cargo at the base of Clay Street. This wall originally encased a catholic church and the parishioners wheelbarrowed the stones up from the waterfront for their building project. As Ralph Mason notes in his splendid guide to Portland’s stone (Oregon Geology Vol. 47. No. 11, which provided most of the information for this article), the devout could have gotten basalt from a nearby cliff “which is several thousand miles closer and a downhill haul.” They say that suffering builds character, and churches.

I will end with a boring building architecturally but a fascinating one geologically. Two types of widely used stone clad the building that takes up the block between Jefferson and Columbia and 6^th and Broadway. What makes it interesting is the great unconformity between the base and the upper floors. The 3.5 bya Morton gneiss in all its gaudy glory covers the base and atop it sits the 330 mya Salem Limestone, both stones of which I have blogged about before.

Oregonian building (from Wikipedia)

I have focused only on the older buildings in Portland. Many new structures showcase stone from around the world. As noted at the beginning, I highly recommend a tour. Mason also wrote an earlier tour of Portland buildings for The Ore Bin, volume 27, no. 4, April 1965.

Bluestone and "a thousan' rattlesnakes"

The most famous building stone in New York after brownstone is another sandstone known by its color: bluestone. The term generally refers to flagstones quarried in the Hudson River Valley in central and south New York, as well as in northern Pennsylvania. What made it so popular was the sandstone’s ability to be split into slabs of consistent thickness, which could then be used most famously for sidewalks.

Classic bluestone sidewalk, on a street of classic brownstones in Brooklyn

Beginning in the early-1800s, numerous bluestone quarries opened to provide stone for New York city. According to the Jan 17, 1872 New York Times, one “Uncle Steve” Griffin, a “noted character,” found one of the earlier quarries while out on a rattlesnake smoking expedition near Westbrookville. The area was noted for rattlesnake dens and a local pastime was to “kill the venomous inmates [by] prying and smoking them out of their places of resort.”

Antique bluestone paving for sale. (From Monterey Masonry in western Massachusetts)

Griffin had located a den and inserted his crowbar when he was “astonished by the splitting of a thin, smooth slab.” The Times added “[Uncle Steve] did not attach any importance to his discovery, merely remarking when he returned home that he had “killed more’n a thousan’ rattlesnakes, and had buried ‘em under a patent grave-stone he’d found there.” He subsequently exhibited his “patent grave-stone” to others, who at once pronounced it a blue-stone quarry.” The quarry, however, wasn’t developed for 35 years, when in 1865, six barge loads were shipped to market.

The bluestone flagging went into curbs, caps, sills, and steps—called “edge stuff”—as well as street pavement. Bluestones got their name from the blue color, though the sandstone ranges from gray to green to lilac. The quantity and type of iron controls the colors with chlorite imparting green and hematite bestowing lilac. An absence of hematite, along with unaltered iron minerals generates the famous blues.

Bluestone has also been used to describe bluish limestone, particularly in the Shenandoah Valley. Good examples of this stone are found on the James Madison University Campus. Archaeologists working at Stonehenge also refer to the igneous rocks there, such as diabase and rhyolite, as bluestone.

The majority of the quarries are in Devonian rocks. In New York the rock is the Upper Walton Formation of the West Falls Group and in Pennsylvania, this group is equivalent to the New Milford Formation. The sands were deposited in a classic delta complex, of shoreline and non-marine alluvial plains dotted with lagoons and tidal flats. Quartz is the dominant mineral with a quartz cement.

One of the best single sources on the history and geology of bluestone is a report by James Albanese and William Kelly. It was published for the New York State Geological Association meeting in 1991 and contains most of the pertinent details about the rock that I used. (It can be found in the NY Geo Assn Guidebook, vol. 63, pages 191-203.)

Although the hey-day of bluestone sidewalks passed long ago, many still recognize the beauty of the stone. For example, Marbletown, a community in the Hudson Valley, recently received $3 million in federal stimulus money to build a 3/4-mile bluestone sidewalk. Now, who says that the government does not spend our money wisely?

StoneFest: Making Mortar

Several times during the research for my book on building stone, I came across references to making or using mortar. In particular, in my chapter on coquina, I described how the Spanish burned oyster shells to make lime for mortar. I sort of understood the basic process, but again, not until StoneFest, did I get the process of what the Spanish did. One of the first projects at StoneFest this year was to make lime for mortar.

Irish stonemason Patrick McAfee was our teacher. Patrick is the author of two excellent books on masonry, Irish Stone Walls and Stone Building, with over 40 years experience. He lives and works in Ireland, an ideal place to practice his stone masonry. As he said “The land was so poor all you could grow was stone.” And they ended up in the 4,000 castles, 25,000 bridges, and 250,000 miles of stone walls found on the Emerald Isle.

As with letter carving and making windows, the process of making lime was easy in the hands of a master. We began by building the kiln, basically a tower of stacked cement blocks. We enhanced it by cutting holes in the corners, to allow air in, laying a metal screen on the first row of blocks, and by holding it together with steel beams and tape. The gang took about 40 minutes to build the kiln.

Building the kiln.

Raw Texas limestone before being put in the kiln.

We put coal and limestone on the screen and continued to add these two ingredients in about equal parts as the kiln grew. And this was all we needed to make lime. We could also have used wood or peat for fuel and shells or marble for our lime source. Our limestone came from Texas but historically builders would have used the local materials, as the Spanish did when they burned shells collected from middens made by people who had lived in the area more than 5,000 years ago.

Raw coal before putting it in the kiln.

Feeding the kiln with wood. Note the holes in the corners for air intake.

When we opened the kiln the next day, the limestone had been converted to quicklime, white lumps of CaO. The heat had driven off the CO₂, changing the calcite (CaCO₃) to quicklime, a highly reactive material when mixed with water, a process known as slaking. The reaction produces lime putty, calcium hydroxide (Ca(OH)₂). Lime putty can be used by itself or mixed with an aggregate to make mortar. Patrick told us that lime putty gets better with age, as not all of the quick lime hydrates. The Romans waited at least three years to use theirs and Patrick knew of Polish lime putty aged for more than 100 years.

A bucket of quick lime: these pieces resulted from driving the carbon dioxide off of the calcite.

Our final product: slaked lime or lime putty.

In a little over 24 hours we had made one of the key ingredients of construction used for more than two thousand years. Yes, we had cheated a bit some using modern items but this was because we were in a class with a goal of learning how to make the lime. But basically we had performed a task that would not have looked too strange to Roman builders. Patrick said “We are in a parallel universe for the next four days.” He was right. Our universe was one that relied on simple tools, basic, but highly honed skills, local materials, and practical know how to generate beautiful and lasting products. I hope I get to return to StoneFest next year to continue my stone education in this parallel universe.