space mining
by CJ | Jan 23, 2013 | Journal | 23 comments
23 Comments
Submit a Comment Cancel reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Books
- spoiler potential: caution: book questions.
- Bibliography
- Alliance-Union Guidebook
- Foreigner Guidebook.
- Foreigner Guidebook.
- Gene Wars Universe: Spoiler Alert
- The Map Room
- Book Discussion: all books: spoiler alert in effect…
- Fantasy books: Spoiler alert.
- About the Foreigner series: Spoiler alerts
- Foreigner Series: Spoiler Alerts: Page 2
- WHO’S WHO in Foreigner
Archives
| M | T | W | T | F | S | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | ||
so, have they discovered how to shrink humans down like they did for “Fantastic Voyage”?
Browncoats uniting again? 😀
I think they want to get a good prospect first. 😉
Shades of Heavy Time.
Yep, just park a mining ship up there and use a mass driver to fling useful bits toward a collection zone. Bird and Pollard may have a job yet.
or do you think they mean robotics? we really aren’t finding a way for people to spend much time in space and stay healthy, and that’s a bit further out than the space station.
There’s room for both: we know a lot more about longterm space residency: the one thing we haven’t figured yet is how to shield a human expedition—but rock or ice can do that. Spaceships, at least the early ones, are going, I think, to look kind of rocky and lumpy, or look like balloons deliberately filled with water.
My ships and stations use a LOT of water, some of of which is allowed to freeze—some liquified and sent to human use, plus propulsion, broken down to its atomic level, where sufficient hydrogen is lacking.
I read somewhere that probably our stomachs/ears can’t tolerate artificial gravity of the sort produced by rotation, which is rather a nuisance … 🙁
If you’re inside a closed space that’s rotating, and you’re are otherwise weightless, I don’t think you’ll notice the difference. It’s the weightless that gives the “Vomit Comet” its nickname. I think if you were looking out of a viewport, and seeing the stars wheeling around as your station spun, then yes, I can see the stomach getting upset, and the ears saying that the eyes are lying to them, and making the stomach queasy. Just like being seasick – how well I remember the times I was under THAT ailment. It goes away after a couple of days, and then when you get back to shore, it’s in reverse, sometimes.
Sailors call the lightheadedness one experiences on land after being afloat for a day or “boathead”. The first time I ever spent the night on a boat I went to breakfast afterwards at a diner and the whole booth we were sitting in felt like it was rocking. These days I mostly notice it if I shower as soon as I get home – something to do with no visual references maybe? So far I’ve never been seasick, but when the weather’s going to be stormy we stay off the water.
The problem seems to be that rotating the size critter we fling into orbit gives you an extremely different gravity at your feet than at your head—so your inner ear is not happy. I worked it out once, but as I dimly recall, once you get to a cylinder 180 meters wide, your whole body is under some sort of g—but—it will probably be like being on a ship and learning to walk. I boated mostly on a teacup of a lake and could walk quite nicely; had no trouble on the Med in a car ferry—we had to get to the ‘head’ by timing the slosh against the door and running for it: it was a bit awash—but it wasn’t a problem for walking. On the roughest water I’ve ever experienced, on a smaller boat between Capri and Naples, I recall going up an outside ladder as we hit a swell between hand grips re a ladder stanchion: I only turned loose of one side of the ladder or they’d have been fishing me out of rough seas with no life preserver—I don’t count that a very scary moment, however, since there was a sane reason I never entirely let go of said ladder: I just had a great view of the sea overside, then we rolled in the other direction, I grabbed on with the free hand, and did not let go of EITHER hand. —Point is, we came in to the dock, they lowered a ramp, and here is this sailor, in these seas, who just walks out on that heaving flat with a mooring line and heaves it. Accurately. THAT is the difference between somebody who’s used to moving under conditions in which other folk are having trouble standing up—and I recall you know something in that regard, Joe. People on our boat were seasick. Not this guy. SO I don’t know how big rotational areas will have to be to accommodate earthsiders, but I have a feeling spacer-skills will develop that will defy the rest of us.
Sea legs, space legs, seasick, space-sick, rotation and spin, etc. —
I’m a landlubber. I’ve been on a moored shrimp boat and an old navy ship at Galveston, but I’ve never been out to sea or in anything more than a rowboat lakeside. I don’t generally get afraid of heights, beyond normal caution. So I don’t quite know if I’d take to sea-going life naturally or if I’d first have a long period of adjustment like I’ve heard. …I’m a fair to average swimmer, not great, I’d need some training on technique. But I love to swim… haven’t been swimming in ages, though. (I miss having a pool, but I *don’t* miss the costs of upkeep.) So…I wonder how I’d fare, but I really hope I’d take to it if I had the chance.
This got me to thinking, reading the thread and the discussion of how we sense and react to motion. Motion at sea involves waves, undulating, rocking, etc. Motion of a rotational container of some kind, ring or cylinder or sphere, is all in one direction but over a gradient in all six cardinal directions (+/-) * (x, y, z). So as CJ said, there’s a difference between what your head and feet are feeling, and it’s a different quality of motion than on-world.
So, what sort of differential is there? How big does your rotating base need to get before the head-to-feet ratio is not so noticeable for the average spacer or landlubber? Or, for that matter, so that a sudden course direction change at speed doesn’t fling you and everything else tied down at dangerous speeds? Also, what are the physical sensations we’re likely to encounter with all that? And what ordinary things do we get in movement, say as we throw a ball, walk, or jump in each of the six directions relative to spin?
I suppose one of the main things I’ve also wondered about is, in your books, CJ, you have ships and crews inconvenienced when the crew cylinder is locked down, not spinning, while docked. I can see how the “topside quadrant” is effectively “upside down” then, and the “side” quadrants are rendered into curved verticals, with only the quadrant on the bottom being “right side up”. But…well, that seems to have two big problems that I would think spacers (and ship builders and ship/station procedures) would overcome. One, aboard the shuttles and ISS, astronauts use all the surfaces under zero g, it effectively makes it all usable space. So maybe that’s taken care of? Or do spacers design the rotation cylinders and station procedures so that the cylinders could remain in spin, even docked? Or could the ship be docked with the cylinder oriented so station spin gives everything a convenient usable spin gravity? (I don’t see how, though.) Or, again I don’t see how, would they design the cylinder so that in the procedure to stop spin and lock down, each of, say, eight to twelve sectors buoy into a vertical orientation? (That just doesn’t seem workable, but maybe I’m missing something.) My question boils down to, wouldn’t they find some practical means so they’re not wasting half to three-quarters of the rotation cylinder when it’s on lockdown? Spacers don’t waste, they’re practical and handy, in your stories. So it seems like something they’d find some way to overcome.
I still love the ship and station stories, spacers finding a way to get it done. Particularly Chanur, Merchanter’s Luck, Finity’s End, and Downbelow Station. — I also always loved Heinlein’s and Norton’s spacer stories.
sometimes even experienced sailors can be completely put out of action by ship movement. my brother was a radio officer in the merchant navy for years. he well remembers having to have a jab in his behind to stop the vomiting in the bay of biscay on a big passenger ship in a really bad storm.
according to wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_gravity) “Experiments have shown that longer periods of rotation reduce the Coriolis forces and its effects. It is generally believed that at 2 rpm or less, no adverse effects from the Coriolis force will occur (The Coriolis effect gives an apparent force that acts on objects that move relative to a rotating reference frame). At higher rates some people can become accustomed to it and some do not, but at rates above 7 rpm few if any can become accustomed. It is not yet known if very long exposures to high levels of Coriolis forces can increase the likelihood of becoming accustomed….. To reduce Coriolis forces to livable levels, a rate of spin of 2 rpm or less would be needed. To produce 1g, the radius of rotation would have to be 224 m (735 ft) or greater, which would make for a very large spaceship.” CJ’s belt mining novel Heavy Time conforms to all the stuff in this wiki article – the spinner in the little mining ship and the different levels of gravity in the big spinning space station … of course CJ’s homework is always tip-top! and the nausea inducing “wrongly curved” earth for our poor ship people in the Foreigner series … which some apparently never get over.
Its amazing what becomes ‘normal’ after a few days at sea. Mind you, I’m one who does get sea-sick, and I know enough that when I see a rough patch (such as the mouth of the river with a lot of chop) I know to grab an empty coffee can or trash can. However after a couple, three days I’m over it. I hate to say it, but I have been known to take one look at a greenhorn in the chow line, laugh, then point out the trashcan so they don’t spew on the floor then laugh. After a few trips to Alaska as an observer, watching a greenie fight to hold down breakfast while looking at lunch IS sort of funny, the whole experience messes with your sense of humor, believe me!
I remember a few trips where we had waves crashing over the bridge of the ship FOUR STORIES UP, which means walking is challenging and working with dangerous equipment is a BAD IDEA. Even sleeping is a challenge, because you have to brace yourself to keep from getting thrown out of the bunk. BUT, we were used to the motion and were BORED because the weather had the factory shut down. So, being humans, those of us who had had enough sleep after 24 hours worth of stormy weather invented a game. The galley chairs were not anchored, so we would sit and tuck in our feet and hands, then shift our weight in the chairs to encourage them to move. BUMPER-CHAIRS!
Mind you, this was riding around in a glorified tin can with waves crashing over our heads, winds howling somewhere around 60 MPH, and the boat slamming up and down and sloshing back and forth hard enough that heavy chairs with an average of 150 lbs of human in each were sliding wall to wall without stopping (and occasionally going airborn!) in a 20ft by 20ft room.
People adapt to some pretty extreme conditions even here on Earth. I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if we figured out how to make space work.
DH and I spent a week crewing on board the HMS Rose, a replica of an 18th century frigate. We got chased into dock a couple of times by some foul weather. One develops quite a bit of respect for sailors of that era for whom hiding from storms wasn’t an option. One also develops the cursing habits of a NYC cabbie when 75 feet above the deck on a swaying yardarm, trying to reef a sail (remember the scene at the end of Master and Commander, when Russell Crowe is standing on the top of the mainmast of HMS Surprise? That’s actually the Rose!) If humans can adapt to that, we can jolly well adapt to being spacers.
Have you seen the film “1900”? — your “bumper chairs” reminds me of my favorite scene in that film, which involves a storm and a piano.
Now we know who to hang out with on board the next deep space run. Stick with Weeble, and not only will you wobble but not fall down, you won’t be bored in space, at sea, or on the ground!
undoubtedly the inner ear adapts to wave movements in most cases. I think the Coriolis effect is different from the motion you get at sea, though. but they haven’t done very much research on it by the sound of things.
My second ship in the Navy was 6 inches longer than Nelson’s “Victory” at 213’6″, it was 45 feet wide, drafted a whole 14 feet, displaced 1,500 tons, and had a round bottom. When we left the relatively calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea and sailed out through the Strait of Gibraltar, you could immediately tell the difference in the rollers. Not only were they larger, but they had a different period from the waves in the Mediterranean. That’s not to say the Med didn’t get rough, I have a picture of the seas breaking over the bow of my first ship, a heavy cruiser of 18,500 tons. All the way across the Atlantic to Norfolk, we were chased by storms. At one point, just off Cape Hatteras, we were in the middle of 3 different storms, one southeast of us, one northeast of us, and one coming in off the mainland. Seas were in excess of 21 feet, and we weren’t supposed to be in anything heavier than 8 feet. I spent a lot of time walking on the bulkheads (walls, landlubbers!), and eating a meal was a challenge because even with the retaining bars on the tables, trays still would bounce right over them onto the deck. That was a 2 week journey, and I don’t think I got sick then, because I’d been onboard my first ship for 2 years just before this one. It wasn’t until a year later and it wasn’t even rough that I got violently sick, and nobody laughed, because we all got sick on that little thing. It was difficult the first day after we’d get back into port because of the liquid in our middle ears still swirling, yet the horizon was standing still. That upsets the stomach because the eyes say one thing and the ears (for balance) say another. After 3 days at sea, the average person gets their “sea legs”, which is more than just getting used to the motion of the ship. You unconsciously adjust your balance by shifting your weight as the ship moves. I never tempted fate by getting too close to the edge, even though we had lifelines and railings. If the captain secured the weather decks because of high seas or winds, you stayed off the weather deck. Even the lookouts were not allowed out on the bridge wings during weather like that. But you’d NEVER get me up on a mast to reef topsails, at least, not these days. When your life is on the line, you do what you have to do, and don’t worry about trivial things like slipping off the line and hitting the water below.
Would you believe me if I said I missed those days?
I recall being told that a baby in the womb is essentialy [sp. as usual] weightless. That could mean that the condition is, in fact, needed for proper development of all placental animals…
You might thinks so, but gravity’s effects are pervasive — for one thing, it affects the development of the vestibular system (balance organ in the ear) — The offspring of pregnant rats who spent a week in space were born with impaired vestibular systems and were unable to right themselves when dropped upside down into water. Pregnant rats who spent even longer time in space had offspring whose vestibular systems were insensitive to pure gravitational forces, but had increased sensitivity to angular acceleration created by rolling movements. Based on these albeit preliminary findings in rats, human babies conceived and born in space might have a very difficult time adapting to life in a place with “normal” gravity, such as a planetary surface. If that is indeed the case, it would drive a much bigger wedge between “spaceborn” folks and “planetary born” folks, than the one between seafarers and “landlubbers”. Spaceborn folks might find being on the surface of a planet almost intolerable — as much for the havoc it wreaks with their equilibrium and coordination as for the “stress” the gravity itself puts on the anatomy and physiology. Your body’s movement systems are programmed in the womb to deal with the physics of the environment you’re born into. Quite a different set of “physics of motion” applies in space than applies on a planet’s surface. A lot of moves you can get away with under gravity will get you in trouble in zero G, and vice versa. For example, a person born and raised in low G would develop an inhibitory response to making sudden movements — They might look like they were moving in slow motion — when it is in fact an adaptation to a low G environment.
Two thoughts there, WOL.
One, would a space-born child (or older) adapt over time to planetary life? It’s what our form evolved for, after all? Wouldn’t it slowly “reset” to the new on-world environment? If not, that is indeed a problem and would mean an adaptive divide between space-born and world-born, as you say.
Two, the alternative would mean there’d have to be some sort of artificial gravity enough equivalent to Earth to allow normal fetal development. Pregnant women would have to have special care in such an environment…though if it were available, it would likely be adopted station-wide and ship-wide anyway. The alternative would be expectant mothers would need to rotate planetside for the duration of their pregnancies. Hmm, rather like (unflattering comparison here) birds nesting or sea mammals returning to land to give birth. (Yeah, it really isn’t a very flattering comparison, sorry all.) That really would also put serious limits on early or later spacing, though it would serve to tie spacer and grounder populations together instead of a wide cultural divide. The whole issue of fetal development in space has many dependencies like that. It’s sure something we’ll have to deal with to get out into space.
I’d expect rotations / layovers for pregnancy back on Earth (or some world with enough g) in the beginning, and later some form of artificial gravity across all ships and stations. Hmm…even small craft?
But in any case, that gives some interesting constraints on things, story-wise and in real-life terms. Doable, however, and not a reason to avoid getting into space. But then, I’d argue the need for resources, colonization / population relief, and exploration are strong reasons to get out into space too. Those, and the “don’t put all your eggs in one basket” notion, as noted in one of the Chanur novels.
Fascinating stuff. I hope humanity makes it to space, but I worry we won’t be able to afford the expense in the future.
Lately I have been paying attention to the various things happening in space and the many plans being made for the not so distant future. It’s so cool to see the private sector finally making strides; Rutan, SpaceX etc.
I was really moved to see Sunny Williams as commander of the ISS.
Also intense are the videos of folks on the ISS having radio calls with family, greeting new arrivals etc. It makes me realize just how precious life is, our relationships. They downplay it, but that is one dangerous place to visit.
It is very easy and cool to observe the ISS, it takes about 7 minutes to pass from one horizon to the other. The best time is when a pass is just before sunrise or just after sunset. Unfortunately magnification doesn’t help much. The darn thing is just too far away. If I had powerful enough magnification, tracking it would be quite a trick.