For many decades the primary tool of petroleum exploration has been reflection seismic surveying. As oil has become harder to find, industry has hugely improved means of processing seismic waves that return to detectors and expanded data gathering as a means of showing subtle structures and sedimentological detail. From individual seismic sections up to the 1970s, seismic surveys have moved towards multiple lines with ever-decreasing spacing as a means of producing 3-dimensional subsurface maps. Until recently the results of 3-D seismics have been glimpsed only rarely by the academic community, but once their commercial usefulness has been exploited they are increasingly becoming accessible. Richard Davies of the 3DLab at the University of Cardiff, UK and Henry Posamentier of Anadarko Canada provide an exquisite overview of the possibilities for research in the October 2005 issue of GSA Today (Davies, R.J. & Posamentier, H.W. 2005. Geologic processes in sedimentary basins inferred from three-dimensional seismic imaging. GSA Today, v. 15(10), p. 4-9). They show examples of derivatives from 3-D seismics, produced by a variety of image-processing techniques as well as the basic seismic processing, which demonstrate the depth to which these data can be interrogated. Featured are an example of meandering Pleistocene channels beneath the Gulf of Mexico, structures produced by sediment compaction between the Shetland and Faeroe islands in the North Atlantic, and the shapes taken by basaltic sills as they flowed into place. The graphics are wonderful, and would certainly tempt an IT-literate researcher. However, no funding agency could afford to commission such revealing surveys, and the geoscience community will always rely on the activities and generosity of the petroleum industry to enter this awesome world. Some might think of midnight meetings at lonely crossroads or an armful of long-handled spoons. Yet the potential results far transcend the kind of information one might extract from exposed geology.
Author: zooks777
Former Senior Lecturer at British Open University, research in remote sensing of arid lands, groundwater exploration, Precambrian tectonics and geochemistry
Multimedia volcanoes
Virtual field trips made possible by the considerable ingenuity of their authors are excellent means of taking school children and even undergraduates to places well off limits or resources. Most are available only on CD or DVD, but those on the web are especially valuable for all with sufficient connection speed to use them. A Swiss educational organisation hosts the work of Italian volcanologists Roberto Carniel and Marco Fulle with Swiss teacher Jürg Alean. They make it possible to experience volcanological life vividly, by ‘visiting’ the famous Stromboli, Ethiopia’s Erta Ale lava lake, explosive Montserrat in the Caribean and others.
Visit http://www.swisseduc.ch/stromboli
Share this:
Photosynthesis during a ‘Snowball’ epoch
In Neoproterozoic sedimentary sequences evidence for low latitude glaciation crops up at two and probably several other times; so-called ‘Snowball Earth’ events. Opinion is divided on several aspects of these events: whether or not they truly coated the Earth in glacial ice; their influence on biological evolution; the processes that started and terminated them. From a biological standpoint, a completely ice-bound surface – both land and oceans – would have stressed organisms to the extreme. Marine life (all that there was in those times) may only have survived in a few refuges from the ice, perhaps around submarine hydrothermal vents or in ephemeral sea-ice leads and polynya. If that were so, then these frigid episodes would have created important evolutionary ‘bottlenecks’, from which sprang several adaptive radiations: ‘Snowball’ epochs may have determined the forms and genetic diversity of all later life, especially among the Eucarya, of which we are a part. Probable deep-ocean anoxia would have been particularly stressful for organisms that depend on oxygen.
The key to establishing whether or not Neoproterozoic frigid episodes did bring eucaryan life to the verge of extinction lies in the diversity of life during those periods. That is not an easy task as all life until just before the Cambrian Explosion was both soft-bodied and minute. One means of assessing diversity is to study biochemical remnants of cell processes preserved in reduced ocean sediments (Olcott, A.N. et al. 2005. Biomarker evidence for photosynthesis during Neoproterozoic glaciation. Science, v. 310, p. 471-474). Olcott and colleagues studied black shales from Brazil whose age is within that of a frigid episode (740-700 Ma), and which contain textural evidence for abundant sea ice and low temperatures. Recovered biochemical compounds indicate considerable diversity, with a mixture of photosynthetic blue-green bacteria and eucaryan algae, with anaerobic bacteria of several types. The results indicate open water to allow photosynthesis – although it is possible for light to penetrate several metres of sea ice – together with deeper anoxic waters. Since the samples span a section almost 100 m thick, it seems this diversity persisted for a long period. However, the most that it can establish with certainty is that thin sea ice or open water did persist at the low palaeolatitude of late-Precambrian Brazil. The Neoproterozoic record has abundant, widespread black shales, and quite possibly there are others associated with evidence for glacial events. The importance of the paper lies in showing that biomarkers can be used as effectively in the Precambrian as in the Phanerozoic, and an expansion of this approach can be expected.
Oxygen and mammalian evolution
So much in the geological history of surface processes depends on either the dearth or the superabundance of oxygen. That is no surprise for a host of reasons, one being that it is the most reactive common element when free of bonds, and another is that the most powerful means of releasing oxygen is the capture of energetic solar photons by the pigments residing at the heart of photosynthesis. To grossly paraphrase James Lovelock, the principal reason for not sending people to Mars to search for life is that the planet’s atmosphere tells us that even if was there, it wouldn’t be very exciting. Oxygen gas is at vanishing low levels on the Red Planet, even if there is lots locked up in its iron-oxide rich surface.
The greatest event in the history of terrestrial life, apart from its emergence, was exploitation of the means of breaking hydrogen-oxygen bonding in water, which is what common photosynthesis is all about. It opened the entire planet to life from the restricted, though diverse habitats of most Bacteria and Archaea in the earlier anoxic world. First, oxygen-excreting cyanobacteria were able to colonise the entire ocean surface, depending on available nutrients. In doing so and generating free oxygen they threatened every other organism that used metabolisms based on other kinds of chemistry: oxygen is highly toxic because of it propensity to grab free electrons. Balanced by its oxidation of iron in early oceans, severe oxygen stress did not emerge until halfway through Earth’s history. Once it did become able to accumulate in air and water, all ecosystems faced havoc. Dominant prokaryotes slunk to rare places of refuge, while others seem to have combined in resisting oxidation. Their creation of the Eucarya that depend completely on available oxygen led, through the emergence of algae and then plants, to an accelerated stoking up of oxygen generation.
Once vegetation began to cloak the land, an extra 30% of the planet’s surface opened new vistas for animals and increased oxygen production and complementary burial of carbon. Indeed, explosive growth of atmospheric oxygen during the Carboniferous resulted in animal expansion to the air, through ominously huge insects. The first clearly traced ancestors of mammals seem to have appeared in the Permian, though their descendants only got the chance to dominate once reptiles, especially dinosaurians, lost their grip as a result of the K-T extinction. At the time of a far greater loss of living diversity, at the end of the Permian, it is now clear that in a relatively short time oxygen levels had fallen from their highest to one of the lowest in the Phanerozoic record (see New twist for end-Permian extinctions in the May 2005 issue of EPN).
Anoxic oceans were a regular feature of the Mesozoic and early Cenozoic. It is their preservation of abundant buried carbon that holds a key to, in an anthropocentric sense, the greatest of evolutionary leaps; the rise of large mammals and ourselves. A large team of US scientists has used the now abundant records of carbon isotopes in both buried organic matter and marine carbonates to reconstruct changes in atmospheric oxygen content (Falkowski, P.G. and 8 others 2005. The rise of oxygen over the past 205 million years and the evolution of large placental mammals. Science, v. 309, p. 2202-2204). Their modelling suggests that at the start of the Jurassic, atmospheric oxygen stood at around only 10%. Through that period it rose dramatically to 16%, fell equally abruptly and then rose again to about 18%, thereby creating the conditions for some of the largest sources of petroleum. Cretaceous times saw a slow rise, until around the time of the global warming at the Palaeocene-Eocene boundary (55 Ma). The middle of the Cenozoic was a further period of dramatic increase in oxygen levels, to their highest (~23% in the Oligocene) since the peak during the Carboniferous. Latterly atmospheric oxygen has waned to around 21% today.
Falkowski et al. compare their new atmospheric oxygen curve with evolutionary spurts among mammals, of which the simplest to understand is the parallel rise of mammalian average size. The metabolism of all mammals, like birds, has 3 to 6 times the oxygen demand of reptiles. Not only were Mesozoic mammals challenged in stature by the air they breathed, reptiles were easily able to grow to monstrous proportions because of their less demanding physiological processes. The first signs of the placental nurturing of mammalian foetuses, which requires a high oxygen level, coincides roughly with the Mesozoic maximum (100-65 Ma). The end-Cretaceous extinction of the dominant dinosaurian reptiles removed the main competition against the subtle advantages of placental mammals, and was followed by further increase in oxygen. The Cenozoic permitted terrestrial mammals to reach sizes almost comparable with dinosaurs, and to go beyond them among whales. Moreover, it saw explosive diversification, one branch of which, the primates, leads to ourselves.
Share this:
Martian methane: a bit of a blow
In Joseph Heller’s Catch 22, Hungry Joe is noted for ‘…snorting, stamping and pawing the air in salivating lust and grovelling need’. That is a close metaphor for reactions among some scientists (and astronauts) to observations that seem to support the notion that indeed, there is life on Mars. Remember the meteorite ALH84001? In 2004, a spectrometer carried by ESA’s Mars Express probe detected methane in the Martian atmosphere above areas that probably carry sub-surface water ice. Many exobiologists attributed this to exhalations by methanogen bacteria perhaps living in the ice, which seemed plausible. Sadly, it seems that hydrous alteration of the mineral olivine, which is widespread at the Martian surface, to serpentine is even more likely. The reaction can yield hydrogen, which generates methane by reducing carbon dioxide. Exobiologists are keeping their options open…. Meanwhile, it is not implausible that hydrogen from this simple reaction might be used to resolve global warming: olivine is the most abundant mineral in the rocky planets. Incidentally, it is serpentinisation of ultramafic rocks that best explains methane exhalation from the deep ocean floor and from crystalline basement, which Thomas Gold thought had a deep-mantle origin and was responsible for all hydrocarbon deposits.
Source: Schilling, G. Martian methane: rocky birth then gone with the wind? Science, v. 309, p. 1984.
Where do impactors come from?
All the rocky bodies in the Solar System (the Moon, Mars, Mercury, Venus, Earth and moons of the giant planets) preserve to some extent the signs of collisions with errant bodies. One period stands out dramatically: the Late Heavy Bombardment or LHB (4.0-3.8 Ga) that produced the lunar maria, and left its signature in Archaean rocks on Earth (see Tungsten and Archaean heavy bombardment, August 2002 EPN). The planet Venus was entirely resurfaced about 500 Ma ago, and its plains record the later flux of impactors in much smaller more widespread craters, as do the lunar maria, parts of Mars and to a very limited degree the Earth. The LHB stopped abruptly, having appeared equally out of the blue. The influence of astronomical collisions on planetary histories may be an established fact, but is still something of a mystery as regards its pace and intensity. High resolution images of large rocky bodies sustain a thriving cottage industry of measuring, counting and dating craters; the latter from stratigraphic evidence of relative age, such as craters that have been cratered, and ejecta mantles that bear signs of impact themselves.
Hidden inside such statistics are clues to the astronomical processes that lead to impacts (Strom, R.G. et al. 2005. The origin of planetary impactors in the Inner Solar System. Science, v. 309, p. 1847-1850). The crater-size distributions for the early events and those after 3.8 Ga are very different. Those of the later generation show features very like the size distribution of objects whose orbits intersect that of the Earth (near-Earth Objects or NEOs) and largely reflect the element of chance in a more or less stable late Solar System. The LHB pattern extends to craters more than an order of magnitude larger than the younger one, and resemble the size distribution of bodies that now orbit quite happily in the Main Belt of asteroids. It seems that during the period between 4.0 and 3.8 Ga, some main belt asteroids were flung out of their orbits to enter the Inner Solar System in large numbers. The analysis by Strom et al. suggests that the gravitational disturbance during that period might have been due to gradual migration of the giant Outer Planets before they took up their present stable orbits.
Share this:
Climate change and human evolution
One clear character of the record of investigations into human evolution is that, rather than becoming clearer as data increase, our origins become more of a puzzle. With every major fossil find the hominin clade or bush of descent acquires what appears to be another branch. With the recent publication of the genome of our closest living relative, the chimpanzee – and its earliest fossil remains – (Nature, v. 437, p. 47-108), it will hardly be surprising if the assumptions about a gene-based time of separation of the two clades (5-7 Ma) comes into question. Studies of the Y-chromosomes of living human males have suggested ‘bottlenecks’ in our recent evolutionary past, interpreted to indicate near-catastrophic declines in numbers to perhaps that of a few scattered bands. One such ‘near-extinction’ seems to have occurred about 70 thousand years ago, which has been linked to the huge explosion of the Toba ‘supervolcano’ in Indonesia in whose ash are poignantly preserved biface axes. Toba would have had a global climatic effect at a time when fully modern humans were migrating rapidly from Africa across Eurasia; thinly spread and easily isolated by disaster. What followed was an explosive development of both material and aesthetic culture, perhaps enabled by some serious selection amongst those who endured Toba’s global blast.
It is always tempting to restrict hypothesizing with the ‘Just gimme the facts’ outlook – as people of my generation will remember from the main detective in the Dragnet TV series. That is, ideas based on hominin remains alone. Yet all evolution takes place within a wider environmental context; for much of our history that of East Africa. Scanty knowledge of tropical climates there and a reliance on distant deep-sea records had led to the widespread belief that this centre of most hominin evolution gradually became drier since the late Miocene. Lake beds in the East African Rift system have held the key to a useful record, and now some of the detail is emerging (Trauth, M.H. et al. 2005. Late Cenozoic moisture history of East Africa. Science, v. 309, p. 2051-2053). Lakes in the Rift are handy for climate study because they span 8 degrees of latitude north and south of the equator, the spread helping to isolate more local effects of volcanism and tectonics on their sedimentary record from those of regional climate change. Many have little outflow and a local supply of water, so their levels depend mainly on the amount of local precipitation compared with evaporation. The actively subsiding basins in which they form have the opportunity to preserve unbroken, thick records of both lake and river sediments.
Trauth et al. compile environmental and chronological information from sediments in seven Rift basins, going back to about 3 Ma. Volcanic events provide plenty of dating opportunities to calibrate and correlate the sedimentary evidence. They show three rift-long episodes of deep lakes spanning broad periods from 2.7-2.5, 1.9-1.7 and 1.1-0.9 Ma. A few sections reveal lake-level fluctuations on Milankovich timescales. The longer episodes link in time to the intensification of Northern Hemisphere glaciation, to a shift in east-west air circulation over Africa and to the switch from the dominant glacial cyclicity of 41 ka to one of 100 ka, respectively. Wisely, they consider the climatic information to be crucial to studies of human evolution, but still too coarse to be used with confidence in relation to details of the fossil record. Long humid periods would have been ‘easy’, whereas the separating drier periods may have experienced ups and downs in humidity on Milankovich timescales. Fluctuating conditions would have been more stressful and likely to witness speciation. One very odd feature is that the 1.9-1.7 Ma period of deep rift lakes is the time when H. erectus became the first tooled-up being to migrate far beyond Africa. Many have regarded migration as a response to environmental stress, but just as likely is an expansion of opportunity.
Share this:
Climate and the end-Permian extinction
A time in Earth history (~251 Ma) when life was all but snuffed out and from which the creatures most familiar to us eventually emerged is understandably revisited quite often. Causes ranging from impacts (no convincing evidence as yet), through flood-basalt emissions, catastrophic methane release, low atmospheric oxygen to ocean anoxia have all been proposed. Hesitantly, opinion is converging on a climatic crisis of some kind, and indeed the coincidence of both terrestrial and marine faunal and flora extinctions points to climate being the global transmitter of some cause or a coincidence of causes. After the waning of Southern Hemisphere glaciations, the late Permian was warm, even at high latitudes. Until recently, attempts at modelling the end-Permian climate have not been entirely convincing because of limitations in the models themselves. Jeffrey Kiehl and Christine Shields of the US National Center for Atmospheric Research in Colorado have assembled a model that couples land, atmosphere, oceans, sea-ice and palaeogeography for the period (Kiehl, J.T. & Shields, C.A. 2005. Climate simulation of the latest Permian: Implications for mass extinction. Geology, v. 33, p. 757-760).
The critical test for the model is running it with parameters for the near-present, and it performs well. Several lines of evidence point to a much higher CO2 level in the Permian atmosphere, so this is the main input parameter. The outcome is a world with a mean surface temperature that is 8° C higher than now. Unlike today, there was no geographic hindrance to poleward heat transport, so the high mean temperature is reflected in the summer warmth and humidity of Permian high-latitude land. The sub–tropics on the other hand were scorching (around an average summer minimum of 51° C, 15° C higher than now); a clear contributor to minimising life there. Sea-surface temperatures at high latitudes are higher in the model outcomes, this warmth extending to depths of 3 km. Surprisingly, low-latitude sea temperature emerges as much the same as now. The model also suggests that seawater was saltier than now, and that results in greater uniformity of density with depth and location: a hindrance to bottomward circulation and mixing. There would probably have been no thermohaline circulation worth speaking of. The model helps confirm the likelihood of an oxygen-free lower ocean and little transfer of nutrients. The oceans too would have been inhospitable. A shutdown of biological productivity and therefore carbon burial would have accelerated warming. So, pushing the biosphere into a mass extinction would have been inevitable. The last straw may have been the additional stress of increasing acidity from sulphur dioxide emissions from the Siberian flood basalts.
Milankovich forcing and Early Jurassic methane
Periods of environmental crisis less severe than those leading to mass extinction appear throughout the fossil record. As well as minor extinction peaks they are often signified by departures of carbon-isotope records from long-lasting norms. Such a crisis appears in the d 13C record of the Early Jurassic, and is beautifully preserved in about 15 m of black shales on the North Yorkshire coast of England. Geoscientists from the Open University, UK and the University of Cologne, Germany have produced an extremely high-resolution time series of carbon-isotope data from the section (Kemp, D.B. et al. 2005. Astronomical pacing of methane release in the Early Jurassic period. Nature, v. 437, p. 396-399). The quality is sufficiently good to analyse the time series using Fourier analysis that yields the frequencies that contribute to the observed wave-like patterns in the data. Of course, the time in a stratigraphic time series is measured in metres, unless it is possible to calibrate the section by precise radiometric dating. The Yorkshire Jurassic contains only fossils and no dateable horizons, but the fine stratigraphic division based on ammonites is also widespread and calibration is possible from dates obtained elsewhere. The overwhelmingly dominant frequency in the carbon-isotope curve is 1.23 cycles m-1, which represents 21 ka after the calibration of depth to time. That is the signal of precession of the equinoxes, part of the astronomical forcing bound up in Miliutin Milankovich’s theory of astronomical forcing of climate.
Astronomical pacing turns up throughout the stratigraphic column, wherever sediments are suitable for time-series analysis (steady, unbroken sedimentation), so a precessional signal is no great surprise. The important feature is the profundity of the d 13C excursions; a total of –7‰, largely accomplished by three abrupt shifts of –2 to –3‰. The first two coincide with bursts in extinctions. The most likely phenomenon to have produced these shifts is massive release of methane by destabilization of submarine gas hydrates. Emissions seem to have been blurting out on a regular basis as the Earth’s rotational axis precessed like a gyroscope. So, the complete time period was one in which gas hydrate was unstable, probably due to overall warming. Yet something else must have triggered vast releases three times. The Lower Jurassic extinctions link in time with massive magmatism in Southern Africa and Antarctic (the Karoo-Ferrar large igneous province). Perhaps especially large volcanic events there set the stage for large precessional methane releases. An alternative view is that volcanic emissions of CO2 gradually produced enough widespread warming for the astronomical trigger to cause breakdown of gas hydrate simultaneously over very wide areas of the ocean floor. Other explanations have been suggested for the Lower Jurassic warming and carbon-isotope excursions, such as wildfires, impacts and connections with petroleum maturation and migration. The clear cyclicity rules them out.
Share this:
A tsunami’s reach
The Boxing Day 2004 Indian Ocean tsunamis were recorded by tidal gauges across the planet, both as amplitude and time of arrival. Armed with such calibrating data, detailed ocean-floor bathymetry and means of modelling wave propagation, oceanographers and geophysicists from the US, Canada and Russia have been able to estimate just how the terrible waves travelled the globe (Titov, V. et al. 2005. The global reach of the 26 December 2004 Sumatra tsunami. Science, v. 309, p. 2045-2048). Highlighting their article wonderfully is a colour-coded map that shows offshore amplitude and arrival time for the world’s oceans and shores. Its most fascinating feature is the manner in which the worst of the disturbance was guided by ocean-ridge systems, principally the Ninety-East and Southwest Indian Ridges, but also the mid-Atlantic Ridge. That is of no comfort to the survivors of the disasters around the Bay of Bengal, although the Irriwaddy delta in Myanmar was spared by the influence of the northern part of the Ninety East Ridge. That Madagascar and East Africa, except for northern Somalia, suffered far less than anticipated is thanks to the peculiar effect of the ridge systems.
The fluoride saga
Archaeological work on Icelandic burial grounds of the 18th century in the early 21st century exhumed victims of the Laki eruption of XXXX. Many skeletons bore the distinctive signs of bizarre bone growth that characterises massive ingestion of fluoride ions. The victims had endured prolonged and worsening suffering after exposure to hydrogen fluoride-rich gases that seem to characterise Laki’s effusions. It is a now well-documented geotragedy. Equally well recorded are the lives of Iceland’s early inhabitants from the 8th century onwards, but in the form of epic prose in Old Norse: the Sagas. Being prone to repeated volcanism, an obvious question is, “Did the Viking heroes experience the same problems?”
One of them was huge, both a righter of injustice and a tidy hand with the battleaxe. Egil Skallagrimsson was ‘a man who caught the eye’, reputedly being awesomely ugly and capable of jerking an eyebrow down to his chin line. Such attributes might seem to have been passed on to the legendary centre-half, ‘Skinner’ Normanton, who graced Barnsley football club in the 1950s. The traditions perhaps, but Egil’s visage was probably a result of chronic fluorosis rather than parentage (Weinstein, P. 2005. Palaeopathology by proxy: the case of Egil’s bones. Journal of Archaeological Science, v. 32, p. 1077-1082). His relatives Hallbjorn Half-troll and Grim Hairy-Cheeks seem from the saga to have been equally afflicted, yet successful. As befits a Viking battler, Egil had a thick skull; when exhumed by descendants in the 12th century, it was found to be ridged like a scallop shell – the attending priest hit it with the back of an axe, to no avail. Some have inferred abnormal bone growth and deformities due to Paget’s disease, but that tends to produce massive but weak growths, following repeated crumbling of bone. Weinstein’s theory may be verifiable, since Egil’s Saga reveals the final resting place of this enigmatic giant.
Source: Pain, S. 2005. Egil the enigmatic. New Scientist, 17 September 2005, p. 48-49
Share this:
Earth’s biggest ‘bull’s eye’
Since astronauts and satellite imaging devices first made pictures from orbit, top of the list for oddness is the Richat structure of Mauritania. Sitting out in the Sahara is series of perfectly concentric rings that are almost circular. The structure is at least 40 km across, and even today, many geoscientists use images of Richat as a superb example of a meteorite impact. It is not (Matton, G. et al. 2005. Resolving the Richat enigma: Doming and hydrothermal karstification above an alkaline complex. Geology, v. 33, p. 665-668). Spectacular from space, Richat is not easily accessible. Early field work reported a breccia on a kilometric scale at its high-relief core, which unsurprisingly added to its designation as an impact structure. There are other possibilities: a structural dome, perhaps due to interference between open folds of a couple of generation; the result of upward forces from magmatic activity, such as an underlying plutonic diapir.
The rocks involved are Neoproterozoic to Ordovician sediments of various kinds, which dip radially outwards from Richat’s core, so it is some kind of dome, rather than the sort of circular breach expected of an impact. Two large, basaltic ring dykes, whose centre coincides with that of the dome, cut the sediments. Other igneous materials are: carbonatites (formed from unusual carbonate-rich magmas) in dykes and sills; alkaline silicate-rich intrusions and flows occurring close to the central breccia; kimberlites in the form of plugs and sills. The central breccia is in fact a roughly horizontal lens, about 3 km across, that is made mainly of local sedimentary material, mainly once carbonates, set in a silica-rich matrix. The clasts range from highly angular to rounded, but show abundant evidence of some kind of corrosion and silicification. Matton et al. interpret the breccia as a zone of intense dissolution that caused the original sediments at the structure’s core to collapse as volume was reduced as magmatic gases (supercritical fluids) rushed to the surface. So the Richat structure has all the hallmarks of doming above an alkaline igneous pluton, followed by intense hydrothermal activity that was able to dissolve carbonates and produce features akin to those formed by weathering in areas of karst. Rather than being particularly ancient, the igneous activity dates to the Middle Cretaceous. Richat is still unique. Diatremes (vertical breccia tubes) formed by explosive release of fluids from alkaline magmas are quite common, especially in areas dotted with kimberlites, but nowhere else have they produced doming on such a grand scale and with such a spectacular shape.
Detecting the effects of slab to wedge fluid transfer in subduction zones
A fundamental hypothesis concerning the formation of magmas above subduction zones is that partial melting in the over-riding wedge of mantle is induced by upward transfer of water vapour produced by dehydration of the descending lithospheric slab. Many aspects of the chemistry of igneous rocks in supra-subduction zone settings are explained by such dehydration-hydration. However, such fluid transfer is difficult to demonstrate, other than by its ‘second-hand’ geochemical effects on crustal magmas. It should have another, physical effect: in the presence of water vapour, some of the dominant olivine in mantle rocks should break down to form hydrated minerals of the serpentine family. Since olivine is an iron-magnesium silicate, whereas serpentine contains only magnesium, the hydration reaction should release iron to crystallise in the form of iron oxide; specifically Fe3O4 or magnetite. Geophysicists at the US Geological Survey have been able to detect at first hand the effects of this process, thereby allowing zones of hydration in the mantle wedge to be mapped (Blakely, R.J. 2005. Subduction-zone magnetic anomalies and implications for hydrated forearc mantle. Geology, v. 33, p. 445-448). As well as finding substantial magnetic anomalies caused by the release of magnetite by olivine dehydration over the forearc of the Cascadia subduction zone in Oregon, they show gravity anomalies that reflect density variations in the underlying mantle. The other aspect of the olivine-serpentine transformation is a large decrease in density, which should result in a decrease in gravity anomaly should sufficient olivine have been transformed. The coincidence of gravity lows with magnetic highs allowed Blakely et al. to model the location of hydrated mantle wedge in the Cascadia subduction system: probably just above the zone where subducting oceanic crust is transformed to ecologite.
Serpentinite also has a marked effect on the rheology of mantle rocks, because of its ease of ductile deformation. It should allow subduction deformation to proceed in a continuous fashion within the part of the system where it occurs, yet may focus sudden strain in great earthquakes to shallow levels up-dip of its position.
Share this:
Arsenic removal no cure
It is now a decade since the enormity of natural arsenic contamination in groundwater below the great plains of northern India and Bangladesh came to light. In 1995 the World Health Organisation announced that this waterborne arsenic was causing the world’s largest case of mass poisoning. Since then other areas at risk have emerged in East and Central Asia and South America. The tragedy is that groundwater generally presents the safest option for drinking water because sediments filter water and encourage biogenic oxidation that remove common pathogens. That tens of million people in West Bengal and Bangladesh face stealthy poisoning results from channels cut in the low-lying plains during the last glacial maximum being filled rapidly with sediment as sea level rose during climatic recovery. Sedimentation buried large amounts of organic debris to form anoxic conditions in the shallower sediments. Reducing conditions encourage breakdown of the common colorant in sediments, iron hydroxide grain coatings that, having adsorbed most arsenic and other ions from water, releases them when it dissolves. That this should occur was unsuspected during a massive programme of well sinking to relieve endemic ill health from waterborne disease, yet early signs that arsenic had replaced pathogens as a hazard was widely ignored, despite a few warning voices who discovered the unmistakable signs of arsenicosis in the 1980s. They include disfiguring pigmented skin spots and horny growths on hands and feet.
By 1995, the rest of the world took notice, pouring in funds to document occurrences and causes, and to remediate a clearly catastrophic situation. There are three main strategies: to remove arsenic from well water using chemical filters; to return to water from surface sources, though with careful processing to remove pathogens; to sink wells below the level known to encourage arsenic release from iron hydroxide dissolution. For two decades affected populations had been bombarded with encouragement to turn to groundwater: against their better judgement – they termed it the Devil’s water. Once using wells they saw that infant mortality plummeted, so they developed a new enthusiasm for water deemed safe. Caught on the horns of a dilemma, when arsenicosis appeared they were reluctant to return to what appeared to be the greater of two evils. In only a few places were wells deepened to safe depths, and the externally sponsored drive for a solution centred on arsenic removal techniques. Even that was not widespread: of millions of risky wells some 2000 were equipped with arsenic extracting devices, at around US$ 1500 each. It now emerges that the technologies chosen are not doing their intended job (Hossain, M.A. (and 10 others) 2005. Ineffectiveness and Poor Reliability of Arsenic Removal Plants in West Bengal, India. Environmental Science & Technology, v. 39, p. 4300-4306). The team, led by Depankar Chakraborti, who first spoke out about arsenicosis in 1983, tested the efficacy of 18 different devices installed in West Bengal. Only two reduced arsenic levels to the maximum of 50 parts per billion accepted by the Indian government, which is itself five times more than that deemed safe by the WHO. The teams view, supported by the agency that did most to encourage the massive well-driving programme since the 1970s (UNICEF), is that the only realistic solution is a return to rainwater harvesting and purification.
See also: Ball, P. 2005. Arsenic-free water still a pipedream. Nature, v. 436, p. 313.
Legendary events at the Gibraltar Straits
Everyone has heard of Atlantis, but few would care either to point to its former position, or to accept its existence without a shed-full of salt. Nevertheless, no lesser an authority than Plato first described the legend of Atlantis in the 4th century BC, following verbal accounts that originated in pharaonic Egypt. In the last decade a number of legends, if not their religious connotations, have received scientific support. Foremost among these is that of the biblical Flood, which Ryan and Pitman pursued relentlessly, using the Epic of Gilgamesh as a geographic and chronological guide. They discovered that the Black Sea had catastrophically filled through the Bosphorus once global sea level topped the level of its floor, following glacial melting. Their evidence now includes numerous examples of habitations now inundated by the Black Sea.
As with Ryan and Pitman’s work, one key to resolving a real basis for a legend is carefully puzzling out clues in the most detailed accounts of it. In the case of Atlantis, the clues come from Plato himself (Gutscher, M-A. 2005. Destruction of Atlantis by a great earthquake and tsunami? A geological analysis of the Spartle Bank hypothesis. Geology, v. 33, p. 685-688). Marc-André Gutscher and previous workers focused on Plato’s geographic description of Atlantis, as well as its fate. Plato clearly specified an island in the Atlantic beyond the Straits of Gibraltar, and an earthquake and flood that put paid to the Atlanteans in a single day. Indeed, bathymetry does show well-defined shallows (less than 100 m depth) in such a location, but only about 5 km across. This is the Spartel palaeo-island, on which Gutscher turns his focus. Until the final, decisive rise in sea level after around 12 ka, Spartel would have been a low island. Plato’s account is supported by the existence of a proto subduction zone on the Atlantic sea floor off the Straits of Gibratlar, a major earthquake on which devastated Cadiz in 1755, partly because of a 10 m tsunami. Offshore sediments include turbidites that indicate 8 tsunamis since 12 ka, suggesting a 1500- to 2000-year periodicity of large earthquakes at the entrance to the Mediterranean. Plato’s version of the events includes a rough chronology that suggests a time around 11.6 ka before the present. The thickest of the tsunami-driven turbidites is of roughly that age. Unfortunately for the hypothesis that Spartel was Atlantis, at that time only two tiny islets would have stood above the waves. Seismic destruction of coastal regions by tsunamis is something that might easily become legendary, the more so in the distant past. There is one other possibility that might revive the Spartle hypothesis, demonstrated by the great Indian Ocean tsunami of 26 December 2004. Very powerful earthquakes can also result in massive displacement of the crust, or the order of tens of metres. Spartle might have sunk repeatedly since 11.6 ka, as a result of later events.
Share this:
Documenting the Palaeogene transition from ‘hothouse’ to ‘icehouse’
It is well-established that the first large ice sheets that presaged descent into the oscillating climate of the Neogene formed about 34 Ma ago (the Eocene-Oligocene boundary) on Antarctica. Some 21 Ma before, at the Palaeocene-Eocene boundary, global temperatures had leaped following what many believe was a massive blurt of methane previously held in cold storage in ocean-floor sediments as gas hydrate. A monstrous ‘greenhouse’ climatic system must sometime in the interim have reverted to the cooling trend begun at the outset of the Cenozoic. Defining that transformation relies on assembling and interpreting newly available, high-resolution records of climatic proxies through the Eocene and Early Oligocene (Tripati, A. et al. 2005. Eocene bipolar glaciation associated with global carbon cycle changes. Nature, v. 436, p. 341-346). Hitherto, the Eocene part of the ocean-floor sedimentary column had been poorly sampled, so that only broad trends showed.
As you might expect, the change was not a simple transition. At about 42 Ma the record of the Pacific Ocean calcite compensation depth (CCD – the depth at which carbonate remains are dissolved in the deep oceans) shows a remarkable perturbation long before the CCD dipped decisively from about 3.5 km to around 5 km at the start of the Oligocene. A close look at the oxygen isotope record of that age in a highly detailed marine sediment core shows an increase in d 18O that corresponds to either some 6° of cooling or a 120 m fall in sea-level due to build-up somewhere of ice on land. Coinciding with this perturbation are shifts in the carbon-isotope record in carbonates. The authors suggest that the mid-Eocene cooling and continental glaciation that produced falling sea level triggered the weathering of shallow-water carbonates, which together with river transport increased the oceans’ alkalinity. That would have increased deep-water carbonate formation enormously and accelerated the effective ‘burial’ of carbon from the atmosphere
Earth-logs 