Water everywhere — even in space

Water everywhere — even in space

Photo by Louis Vest (CC BY-NC 2.0)

Originally published 11 September 2001

COUNTY KERRY, Ire­land — Years ago, when the big drill rig arrived here to dig our well, the oper­a­tor jumped out of the cab and marched around with a forked twig, look­ing for the best place to drill. It’s a good thing his stick twitched where it did, because that was the only place in our tight lit­tle yard to which his rig could maneu­ver. And, sure enough, he had­n’t drilled very deeply when water came gush­ing up out of the ground.

A con­fir­ma­tion of the art of dows­ing? Not like­ly. There’s prob­a­bly no place in Ker­ry you could drill a hole and not hit water.

In fact, you hard­ly need to drill a hole.

Water is every­where in this water­logged place. It laps the shore. It squish­es up in fields and bogs. It sheets down moun­tain­sides. As I write, I’m look­ing out the win­dow into a mist so thick you could cut it with a knife.

It’s all that water that keeps this place so ver­dant­ly green.

Water is so unique­ly favor­able to life, it is hard to imag­ine life with­out it. Per­haps the most unusu­al qual­i­ty of water is that it is a liq­uid at mod­er­ate tem­per­a­tures. Most oth­er sub­stances con­sist­ing of sim­i­lar­ly small mol­e­cules — such as methane, ammo­nia, and hydro­gen sul­fide — are gas­es. Liq­uid water is an excel­lent sol­vent that bathes liv­ing cells in nutri­ent-rich solu­tions, trans­ports sub­stances with­in cells, and flush­es away tox­ic wastes.

At the same time, water does­n’t dis­solve cal­ci­um phos­phate, which is why our bones don’t melt away. Of all liq­uids, water has one of the high­est sur­face ten­sions, which allows cap­il­lary action to lift water up through the fibers of plants.

Where did it come from, this plan­e­tary wrap of fluid?

Water is com­posed of two more basic sub­stances — hydro­gen and oxy­gen — and we think we know where those ele­ments came from. The hydro­gen was appar­ent­ly cre­at­ed in the Big Bang 15 bil­lion years ago; the oxy­gen was forged in the vio­lence of explod­ing stars that lived and died before the Earth was born.

What remains to be dis­cov­ered is how and where the hydro­gen and oxy­gen were forced togeth­er to cre­ate the quin­til­lions of tons of life-giv­ing sub­stance that cov­ers the sur­face of our plan­et like a sil­very sheath — and hangs in the air out­side my window.

A stan­dard sto­ry is that the heat of the young Earth drove hydro­gen and oxy­gen out of chem­i­cal com­bi­na­tion in min­er­als like mica, which then com­bined to form water. Four bil­lion years ago the plan­et was most­ly molten, heat­ed by radioac­tiv­i­ty and the vio­lence of its for­ma­tion — a vast spher­i­cal vol­cano — and the new­ly formed water bub­bled up out of the fiery depths as steam. Lat­er, as the plan­et cooled, the Earth­’s shroud of gaseous mois­ture pre­cip­i­tat­ed as rain, which col­lect­ed in the broad, deep hol­lows of the new­ly-formed crust.

As the chemist P. W. Atkins said of this sce­nario: “Our oceans were once our rocks.”

Anoth­er pos­si­bil­i­ty is that the water was already there in the gassy neb­u­la out of which the solar sys­tem formed. Not so long ago, a team of astronomers using the Earth-orbit­ing Infrared Space Obser­va­to­ry dis­cov­ered what appears to be a mas­sive water gen­er­a­tor in a gas cloud near the Great Ori­on Neb­u­la, 1,500 light-years away, the largest con­cen­tra­tion of water ever seen out­side of our solar system.

Like most inter­stel­lar gas clouds, the neb­u­la in Ori­on is most­ly hydro­gen, but it also con­tains free oxy­gen. A hot young star embed­ded in the neb­u­la spews off pow­er­ful shock­waves that pum­mel and heat the neb­u­la, caus­ing oxy­gen to com­bine with hydro­gen, cre­at­ing enough water every sin­gle day to fill the Earth­’s oceans 60 times over. Even­tu­al­ly the water vapor in the neb­u­la will cool and freeze into small par­ti­cles of ice, and par­ti­cles such as these may have been present with­in the neb­u­la that gave birth to our solar sys­tem formed 5 bil­lion years ago.

So, was our water made local­ly, or in ancient star­ry neb­u­las? Iso­topes of the two ele­ments may hold the answer.

An ordi­nary hydro­gen atom has a sin­gle pro­ton for its nucle­us. Deu­teri­um has a pro­ton and a neu­tron. These two iso­topes of hydro­gen are chem­i­cal­ly iden­ti­cal when they com­bine with oxy­gen to form water. In the waters of Earth, ordi­nary hydro­gen is about 6,700 times more abun­dant than deuterium.

It would be good to know the iso­topic ratios of hydro­gen in those dis­tant watery neb­u­las, and in the var­i­ous com­po­nents of the solar sys­tem. The ratios have been deter­mined for mete­orites, comets, Mar­t­ian rocks, and atmos­phere, Jupiter, Sat­urn, and the sun. So far, the only place chemists have found an iso­topic ratio iden­ti­cal to Earth­’s oceans is in water-bear­ing mete­orites, which are believed to rep­re­sent the primeval mate­r­i­al out of which the Earth was born.

If our oceans arrived with mete­oric impacts dur­ing Earth­’s for­ma­tion, then the mist out­side my win­dow, so essen­tial to life on Earth, had its source in some oth­er part of the cos­mos. Even the sog­gi­ness of this soft, soft Irish day con­nects me to the universe.

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