BLUE WATER MOST people know and admire the splendid expanse of blue colour offered by the clear sea water on many parts of our coasts, and by that of lakes at home and abroad. I find that there is still a sort of a fixed determination not to believe that this colour is due (as it is) to the actual blue colour of pure water. Pure, transparent water is blue. Those who think they know better will point to a glass of pure water, hold it up to the light, and affirm that it is colourless. But this apparent colourlessness is due to the small breadth of water in the glass through which the light passes. It is definitely ascertained that if water as pure and as free from either dissolved or suspended matter as it is possible to make it (by distillation and the use of vessels not acted upon by water) be made to fill an opaque tube 15 ft. long, closed at each end by a transparent plate, and then a beam of light be made to traverse the length of the tube, so that the eye receives the light after it has passed through this length of 15 ft. of water, the colour of the light is a strong blue. Water is blue in virtue of its own molecular character, just as sulphate of copper is. Liquid oxygen, prepared by the use of intense cold, is also transparent blue, and the peculiar condensed form of oxygen known as "ozone" is, when liquefied, of a darker or stronger blue than oxygen. At one time (some thirty years ago) there was still Vapours are given off by many liquids, and even by some solids, varying in their production according to the heat applied in different cases. They are gases, and quite transparent and invisible at the proper temperature, like the atmospheric air. Thus water is always giving off "water-vapour," which is quite invisible. When water is heated to the boiling point it is rapidly converted into transparent invisible vapour. Steam, as this vapour is called, is invisible, and we all habitually make a misleading use of the word "steam" when we apply it both to this and to the slightly cooled and condensed cloud which we can see issuing from the spout of a kettle or from a railway engine. It seems that the fault lies with the scientific writers, who have applied the word "steam" to the invisible water vapour or gas before it has condensed to form a cloud. The old English word "steam" certainly means a visible cloudy emanation, and not a transparent invisible gas. A cloud is not a vapour, but is produced by the coming together or condensation of the minute invisible particles of a vapour to form larger particles, which float and hang together, and reflect the light, and thus are visible. By the examination of other vapours or gases than that which is gaseous water, namely, the vapours of bodies like chloroform and ether, it has been shown that "cloud" forms in a vapour not merely in consequence of the cooling of the vapour, but in consequence of the presence in the air (or in the tube in which the vapour is enclosed for observation) of very fine floating dust particles. They act as centres of attraction and condensation for the vapour particles. When there are no dust particles present clouds do not form readily in cooling vapours, or only at lower temperatures, and in larger mass. Tyndall made some beautiful experiments on this subject, obtaining clouds of great tenuity in vapours enclosed in The beautiful blue tint of the semi-transparent "white" of a boiled plover's egg is due to a fine-particled cloud dispersed in the clear albumen. London milk used to be "sky-blue" for a similar reason, before the recent legislation against the adulteration of food. The blue eyes of our fair-haired race and of young foxes are not due to any "pigment"—that is to say, a separable self-coloured substance—but to a fine cloud floating in a transparent medium which reflects blue rays of light as blue smoke does. The iris of the eye can and often does develop a pigment, but it is a brown one. When present in small quantity it produces a green-coloured iris, the pale yellow-brown being added to the blue cloud-caused colouring. When present in larger quantity the same pigment gives us brown It is at first difficult to believe that such fine, smoothly-spread turquoise blue as that of the blue frog is due merely to a "reflection effect," and that there is no blue pigment present which would show as blue if light were transmitted through it, or could be separated and dissolved in some medium. Yet this is undoubtedly the case. The nearest experimental production of such a blue surface without blue pigment is obtained by first varnishing a black board, and when the varnish is nearly dry passing a sponge wetted with water over it. Some of the varnish is precipitated from its solution in the spirit (or it may be turpentine) as a fine cloud, and until the water has evaporated it looks like blue paint, as the poet Goethe found when cleaning a picture. It would be interesting It appears that when light is reflected from a cloud of fine colourless particles so as to give a predominant blue colour, the light so reflected is affected in that special way which physicists describe as being "polarized." It is possible by the use of certain apparatus (the polariscope) to distinguish polarized from non-polarized light, so that it should be possible to decide (or at any rate to gain evidence) whether blue water—a sheet of blue water—owes its colour to fine particles suspended in it or to the self-colour of the water. An admirable case for making this simple experiment is presented by the great tanks—some 20 ft. cube—which are used by the water companies which draw their water supply from the chalk, for the purpose of precipitating the dissolved chalk—"Clarking" the water, as it is called, after the inventor of the process—and so getting rid of its excessive "hardness." Such tanks are to be seen by the side of the railway near Caterham. The water in these tanks is of such a brilliant turquoise blue that many people suppose that copper has been added to the water to free it from microbes! Such, at any rate, was the conviction expressed by a friend in conversation with me only a few weeks ago. The water in these tanks, when seen from the railway, looks like a magnificent blue dye, and a very important point for those (not a few) who believe that the blue colour of seas and lakes is due to the reflection of the blue colour of the sky overhead is that the water in the tanks looks just as blue when the sky is overcast with cloud as when there is blue sky. The blue colour of water has, as a rule, nothing to do with the reflection of the sky, though it is the fact that a shallow film of water may at a certain angle reflect the sky to our eyes, just as a mirror may. The effect is quite unlike that due to light passing through It is, I think, still a possible question as to whether the fine floating particles of precipitating chalk act in any way as a "cloud"—in short, as the blue clouds of smoke, egg-white, milk, and varnish. There is no evidence that they do, but no one, so far as I know, has ever taken the trouble to settle the question. It could be done by examining the blue light from the tanks with a polariscope, and also by sinking a black tarpaulin into the tank to cover the white floor and hanging others at the sides. Then if the blue colour were due to light reflected from the white floor and sides traversing repeatedly the clear self-coloured blue water, the blue colour should no longer be visible, for the reflecting surfaces would be covered by the black tarpaulin and little light sent up through the water. But if it were due to a cloud of greatest delicacy in the water—like fine smoke reflecting the blue light rather than the other rays—then the colour should be as intense or more intense when the black background is introduced. I am surprised that some inquirer, younger and more active than I am, does not put the matter to the test of experiment. On the whole, practically all the facts which we know about "blue water" are consistent with the blue self-colour of water, and not with that of a "blue cloud" in the water. Now that we have porcelain baths of the purest white and of large size, one may often see the strong blue colour of water of great purity in the bath, especially where waves or ripples send to our eyes those rays of light which have taken a more or less horizontal course from side to side of the bath, and have thus been through a large thickness of the pale-coloured fluid. Great masses of clear ice, such as one may study in glaciers, are blue; the "crevasses" which One of the most beautiful exhibitions of the colour of clear water in various thicknesses which I know, is at the entrance of the Rhone into the Lake of Geneva. The thick pale-coloured brownish-white sediment of the river shoots out for a quarter of a mile or more into the dark blue waters of the deep lake, and on a bright sunny day as it subsides reflects the light upwards from different depths through the clear water. Where it has sunk but little the colour is green, owing to the influence of the yellow mud. Farther on it is ultra-marine blue, and then, where it has sunk deeper, we get full indigo tints. The movement of the water and its churning up by the steamers' paddles add to the variety of effects, since the foam of air-bubbles submerged throws up the light through the water. It is not possible to doubt as one watches the admixture of the river and the lake, and the eddies and hanging walls of sediment, that one is floating over a vast depth of magnificent blue self-coloured fluid which is traversed by the sunlight in ways and degrees varying according to its depth and the volume of the pale mud of the in-rushing Rhone and the abundance of fine air-bubbles "churned" into the water by the paddle-wheels of the steamer. |