A History of Science, vol 3 by Henry Smith Williams (sites to read books for free TXT) 📕

Meantime, however, it is by no means sure that gravitation does not enter into the case to the extent of producing an insensible general oceanic circulation, independent of the Gulf Stream and similar marked currents, and similar in its larger outlines to the polar-equatorial circulation of the air. The idea of such oceanic circulation was first suggested in detail by Professor Lenz, of St. Petersburg, in 1845, but it was not generally recognized until Dr. Carpenter independently hit upon the idea more than twenty years later. The plausibility of the conception is obvious; yet the alleged fact of such circulation has been hotly disputed, and the question is still sub judice.

But whether or not such general circulation of ocean water takes place, it is beyond dispute that the recognized currents carry an enormous quantity of heat from the tropics towards the poles. Dr. Croll, who has perhaps given more attention to the physics of the subject than almost any other person, computes that the Gulf Stream conveys to the North Atlantic one-fourth as much heat as that body receives directly from the sun, and he argues that were it not for the transportation of heat by this and similar Pacific currents, only a narrow tropical region of the globe would be warm enough for habitation by the existing faunas.

Dr. Croll argues that a slight change in the relative values of northern and southern trade-winds (such as he believes has taken place at various periods in the past) would suffice to so alter the equatorial current which now feeds the Gulf Stream that its main bulk would be deflected southward instead of northward, by the angle of Cape St. Roque. Thus the Gulf Stream would be nipped in the bud, and, according to Dr.

Croll’s estimates, the results would be disastrous for the northern hemisphere. The anti-trades, which now are warmed by the Gulf Stream, would then blow as cold winds across the shores of western Europe, and in all probability a glacial epoch would supervene throughout the northern hemisphere.

The same consequences, so far as Europe is concerned at least, would apparently ensue were the Isthmus of Panama to settle into the sea, allowing the Caribbean current to pass into the Pacific. But the geologist tells us that this isthmus rose at a comparatively recent geological period, though it is hinted that there had been some time previously a temporary land connection between the two continents. Are we to infer, then, that the two Americas in their unions and disunions have juggled with the climate of the other hemisphere? Apparently so, if the estimates made of the influence of the Gulf Stream be tenable. It is a far cry from Panama to Russia. Yet it seems within the possibilities that the meteorologist may learn from the geologist of Central America something that will enable him to explain to the paleontologist of Europe how it chanced that at one time the mammoth and rhinoceros roamed across northern Siberia, while at another time the reindeer and musk-ox browsed along the shores of the Mediterranean.

Possibilities, I said, not probabilities. Yet even the faint glimmer of so alluring a possibility brings home to one with vividness the truth of Humboldt’s perspicuous observation that meteorology can be properly comprehended only when studied in connection with the companion sciences. There are no isolated phenomena in nature.

Yet, after all, it is not to be denied that the chief concern of the meteorologist must be with that other medium, the “ocean of air, on the shoals of which we live.” For whatever may be accomplished by water currents in the way of conveying heat, it is the wind currents that effect the final distribution of that heat.

As Dr. Croll has urged, the waters of the Gulf Stream do not warm the shores of Europe by direct contact, but by warming the anti-trade-winds, which subsequently blow across the continent. And everywhere the heat accumulated by water becomes effectual in modifying climate, not so much by direct radiation as by diffusion through the medium of the air.

This very obvious importance of aerial currents led to their practical study long before meteorology had any title to the rank of science, and Dalton’s explanation of the trade-winds had laid the foundation for a science of wind dynamics before the beginning of the nineteenth century. But no substantial further advance in this direction was effected until about 1827, when Heinrich W. Dove, of Konigsberg, afterwards to be known as perhaps the foremost meteorologist of his generation, included the winds among the subjects of his elaborate statistical studies in climatology.

Dove classified the winds as permanent, periodical, and variable. His great discovery was that all winds, of whatever character, and not merely the permanent winds, come under the influence of the earth’s rotation in such a way as to be deflected from their course, and hence to take on a gyratory motion—that, in short, all local winds are minor eddies in the great polar-equatorial whirl, and tend to reproduce in miniature the character of that vast maelstrom. For the first time, then, temporary or variable winds were seen to lie within the province of law.

A generation later, Professor William Ferrel, the American meteorologist, who had been led to take up the subject by a perusal of Maury’s discourse on ocean winds, formulated a general mathematical law, to the effect that any body moving in a right line along the surface of the earth in any direction tends to have its course deflected, owing to the earth’s rotation, to the right hand in the northern and to the left hand in the southern hemisphere. This law had indeed been stated as early as 1835 by the French physicist Poisson, but no one then thought of it as other than a mathematical curiosity; its true significance was only understood after Professor Ferrel had independently rediscovered it (just as Dalton rediscovered Hadley’s forgotten law of the trade-winds) and applied it to the motion of wind currents.

Then it became clear that here is a key to the phenomena of atmospheric circulation, from the great polar-equatorial maelstrom which manifests itself in the trade-winds to the most circumscribed riffle which is announced as a local storm. And the more the phenomena were studied, the more striking seemed the parallel between the greater maelstrom and these lesser eddies. Just as the entire atmospheric mass of each hemisphere is seen, when viewed as a whole, to be carried in a great whirl about the pole of that hemisphere, so the local disturbances within this great tide are found always to take the form of whirls about a local storm-centre—which storm-centre, meantime, is carried along in the major current, as one often sees a little whirlpool in the water swept along with the main current of the stream. Sometimes, indeed, the local eddy, caught as it were in an ancillary current of the great polar stream, is deflected from its normal course and may seem to travel against the stream; but such deviations are departures from the rule. In the great majority of cases, for example, in the north temperate zone, a storm-centre (with its attendant local whirl) travels to the northeast, along the main current of the anti-trade-wind, of which it is a part; and though exceptionally its course may be to the southeast instead, it almost never departs so widely from the main channel as to progress to the westward. Thus it is that storms sweeping over the United States can be announced, as a rule, at the seaboard in advance of their coming by telegraphic communication from the interior, while similar storms come to Europe off the ocean unannounced. Hence the more practical availability of the forecasts of weather bureaus in the former country.

But these local whirls, it must be understood, are local only in a very general sense of the word, inasmuch as a single one may be more than a thousand miles in diameter, and a small one is two or three hundred miles across. But quite without regard to the size of the whirl, the air composing it conducts itself always in one of two ways. It never whirls in concentric circles; it always either rushes in towards the centre in a descending spiral, in which case it is called a cyclone, or it spreads out from the centre in a widening spiral, in which case it is called an anti-cyclone. The word cyclone is associated in popular phraseology with a terrific storm, but it has no such restriction in technical usage. A gentle zephyr flowing towards a “storm-centre” is just as much a cyclone to the meteorologist as is the whirl constituting a West-Indian hurricane.

Indeed, it is not properly the wind itself that is called the cyclone in either case, but the entire system of whirls—including the storm-centre itself, where there may be no wind at all.

What, then, is this storm-centre? Merely an area of low barometric pressure—an area where the air has become lighter than the air of surrounding regions.

Under influence of gravitation the air seeks its level just as water does; so the heavy air comes flowing in from all sides towards the low-pressure area, which thus becomes a “storm-centre.” But the inrushing currents never come straight to their mark. In accordance with Ferrel’s law, they are deflected to the right, and the result, as will readily be seen, must be a vortex current, which whirls always in one direction—namely, from left to right, or in the direction opposite to that of the hands of a watch held with its face upward. The velocity of the cyclonic currents will depend largely upon the difference in barometric pressure between the storm-centre and the confines of the cyclone system.

And the velocity of the currents will determine to some extent the degree of deflection, and hence the exact path of the descending spiral in which the wind approaches the centre. But in every case and in every part of the cyclone system it is true, as Buys Ballot’s famous rule first pointed out, that a person standing with his back to the wind has the storm-centre at his left.

The primary cause of the low barometric pressure which marks the storm-centre and establishes the cyclone is expansion of the air through excess of temperature.

The heated air, rising into cold upper regions, has a portion of its vapor condensed into clouds, and now a new dynamic factor is added, for each particle of vapor, in condensing, gives up its modicum of latent heat. Each pound of vapor thus liberates, according to Professor Tyndall’s estimate, enough heat to melt five pounds of cast iron; so the amount given out where large masses of cloud are forming must enormously add to the convection currents of the air, and hence to the storm-developing power of the forming cyclone. Indeed, one school of meteorologists, of whom Professor Espy was the leader, has held that, without such added increment of energy constantly augmenting the dynamic effects, no storm could long continue in violent action. And it is doubted whether any storm could ever attain, much less continue, the terrific force of that most dreaded of winds of temperate zones, the tornado—a storm which obeys all the laws of cyclones, but differs from ordinary cyclones in having a vortex core only a few feet or yards in diameter—

without the aid of those great masses of condensing vapor which always accompany it in the form of storm-clouds.

The anti-cyclone simply reverses the conditions of the cyclone. Its centre is an area of high pressure, and the air rushes out from it in all directions towards surrounding regions of low pressure. As before, all parts of the current will be deflected towards the right, and the