Riding with Savonius

A university friend from the Caribbean first told me about Savonius turbines, at the time I saw a future in gas turbines and only a little interest.  This post is a belated thank-you note and an apology.  Savonius turbines are often used to power irrigation pumps.  The method of construction is beautifully simple, first a 40 gallon oil drum is cut in half lengthways with a gas torch, this is then welded back together with the two halves offset around a steel bar.  The steel bar forms the shaft which is drives a pump, if necessary some automotive shafts and gears are used to make the connection.  Googling for images of Savonius machines will show a wide range of variations on the theme and many degrees of constructional sophistication, but the basic design is simple and practical.  The sketch below shows a cross section:

The downside of the design is that the coefficient of performance is lower than more sophisticated designs such as the Darius and many horizontal axis machines.  However, in my mind there is a well developed relationship between performance and cost:

As a general rule, it is always worth investigating the low cost options before seeking out exotic solutions to a problem.  Apart from simplicity, two features of the Savonius design attracted me, first it is a vertical axis machine which can respond quickly to changes in wind direction.  At 10 metres or less, the wind in an urban environment often consists of gusts from varying directions.  Often a horizontal axis machine in an urban setting will "hunt" the wind and by the time the blades are aligned with the wind, the gust has subsided.  Secondly, and this remark should be treated with caution, the Savonius has some inherent protection against overspeeding as it's speed is proportional to the wind speed and not directly related to load.  The concept of mounting any form of wind turbine on a Victorian chimney stack is something no sane man can face with equanimity.  Safety is important and I'm uncertain about the wisdom of rotating machinery on the roof or in the garden.  Having said that, there seems to be an increasing number of rotating chimney cowls appearing which are in effect small wind turbines.

To explore the design I built a small model using two lengths of guttering to form the blades.

Sadly, to the amusement of my neighbors, builders working on adjacent houses and my son, I never managed to get the turbine to turn continuously in my own backyard.  However, within cycling distance, there is a an old Second World War pillbox close to the coast and near a weather station.  This is effectively an open air wind tunnel with some basic instrumentation.  The roof of the pillbox is clear of obstructions and at a height of approx. 10m higher than the surrounding land.  Over several visits, I found that the turbine would turn easily when the wind velocity was greater than 3 m/s and run reasonably smoothly up to 10 m/s in gusty conditions.  The "load" was finger pressure applied to the base of the rotor.

The pillbox is an "ideal" location and not representative of most accessible locations (e.g. my backyard), to see how it would behave in other locations, I spent a few mornings cycling around the town stopping off at the seafront, public parks and the roofs of multi-story car parks. Apart from on the seafront, periods of continuous rotation were rare.  It is worth noting, that this activity attracted little or no interest apart from that of a large alsatian dog but fortunately we became friends after a couple of visits.

Sticking one's finger into a rotating machine does not provide a useful measure of performance.  In an attempt to quantify the performance of the turbine, I attempted to build a small dynamometer, the fluid clutch and torsion bar of which are shown in the photo below:

Whilst this was a fun and absorbing activity, I came to the conclusion that utilising urban wind was a project beyond my resources and moved off in another direction.  At some point in the future, I may return and complete this device.  Small processors such as the Raspberry Pi and Arduino make projects like this feasible within a small budget.    The successor to the Savonius project is something called "Doris" (the goddess of wind) which will be the subject of a future post.

Sloping Off

The clear sky performance of solar devices is reasonably easy to predict.  Man has had a good working knowledge of sun-earth geometry since the dawn of time and until scientists starting messing with decaying atoms, the sun was time.  The equations may have gained some extra terms and decimal places, but an understanding of the principles is apparent in England's Stonehenge, Mayan Temples and many other ancient world heritage sites and sundials.  Over the past few weeks I have been attempting to clean up our "Simple Clear Sky" model.  This small lump of Python code trades accuracy for simplicity, my research interest in the the effect of clouds on solar devices, whilst a solar irradiance under a clear sky follows a smooth curve, soon as a cloud gets between the sun and the earth, the curve looks like the teeth of a halloween lantern, so high accuracy is not that important.  There will be more on this model in a later post.  The code clean-up is part of a large decluttering of spreadsheets and code fragments.

When I first became interested in wind and solar energy resources, I attempted to educate myself with crude wooden constructions in the backyard.  Having gathered the photos together, I realise must have caused my neighbours some embarrassment.  Having amassed some photographic evidence of things I wish I had never started, I have none for experiments which were vaguely useful.  One of these was a 1.5 watt amorphous PV panel which was south facing, but the angle relative to the ground could be varied from zero to ninety degrees.  The objective was to see how the output of a solar panel changed with slope under an overcast sky.  A summary of the results is shown in the graph below:

There are two sets of data, one for a clear day and the other for low overcast skies.  The clear sky curve has a maxima somewhere around 50 degrees.  A reasonable estimate of the clear sky results could have been made by the Python model.  The curves of the overcast sky are more interesting.  First they "peak" when the panel is horizontal, suggesting that the irradiance is more or less evenly distributed over the hemisphere of the sky, secondly, the relationship between slope and irradiance could be approximated by a linear relationship.

Whilst my backyard is generally sheltered from the wind, a stray gust ended this experiment, the mountings of which were later used as firewood.

Later this year, I hope to have a small 20 - 30 watt solar installation working in the back yard, which hopefully will have some data logging capability which will allow a cloud sky model to be firmed-up.

Soil Temperature (A day in the life of)

I've been collecting soil temperatures from my back yard for the better part of two years, normally I do this around sunset on Sunday evening for no better reason than this is usually a pleasant time to sit in the garden and the routine provides some consistency in the data.  The link at the bottom of the page describes the process.

Recently, I found myself in the garden before sunrise (see note below).  This was an opportunity to study the variation in soil temperature during the day.  It was clear  that this could be large, on a spring the morning the ground can have a thin layer of frost and by noon it can be warm to the touch.  The graph below is for a randomly selected day at an arbitrary chosen spot, whilst the absolute values maybe suspect, it does give an indication of their variation.

At sunrise, the sky was more or less free of low cloud and the stars were visible, by noon there was scattered and broken cumulus and a few drops of rain fell but by late evening it was cool and clear again.  The most striking feature of the graph is the variation in the topsoil temperature (0.1m), maybe I missed it's low point, but this could have been 5 or 6 deg. C. by noon it was 16 deg. C, had the clouds been thinner, this might have reached 20 deg. C.  It is this part of the soil where vegetables grow in a thermally turbulent environment.  I am far from being an expert gardener, but I have learnt from the experience of losing seedlings to frost and failure to grow vegetables for winter harvesting that that the choice of crop and the timing of sowing is important.  As the depth of the measurement increases, the variation in temperature with time decreases, at 1.0m the observed range was less than 2 deg. C.

Also on graph is the air temperature from a weather station located approximately 10 km to the west.  I have attempted to collect air temperature data, but shadows from trees, the proximity of walls and our location on the side of an suburban valley make it hard to figure out what is being measured (much the same applies to the soil temperature measurements).  Comparing the soil and air temperature suggests two things.  The first is that whilst there is a correlation between air and soil temperature, the variation of the latter is much greater.  The second is more subtle and this is the complexity of the relationship.  During the morning the ground  warmed and the air followed making it reasonable to assume that there was a relationship between the two events.   However, by late evening, the air temperature started rising even though the ground was subject to radiative cooling.  At this time, the wind which had been blowing gently from the SW all day, veered to the NE, at a guess this slight rise might have been due to advection.

Whilst messing with the soil temperature data, I took the opportunity to update the graphs of Sunday sunset data (it maybe a few days before the website is updated).  The graph for the 1m is shown below:

This graph also contains significant variation.  The winter of 2012/13 was long and cold (maybe not extreme cold, but cold for a long time) which was due to a cold air mass from continental Europe.  Last winter (2013/14) was mild, but marked by wet and windy storms blowing in from the Atlantic.  During January and February the mainstream media was full of pictures of flooding and wind damage, but by April, they were free to return to party political gossip.  This contrast between the two winters is apparent in the soil temperatures, this year they are up to 5 deg. C higher than last year.

Description of the data collection process

This link describes the data collection process and the page is periodically updated with data as it becomes available:

Soil Temperature

Bloggers Note

The drinking habits of my dog are not good.  Whilst he has an adequate supply of clean water he is drawn to ponds, puddles and worse (much, much worse). Normally his digestive system copes with this abuse, but at 04:00 on Tuesday, it failed to do so dramatically.  By 05:00 it was clear that frequent trips to the garden lay ahead, so to offset my irritation and boredom, I set up the soil temperature measuring equipment and produced the graph above.  Should anyone be interested, the dog has made a full recovery and the next rain shower should restore the lawn to its former state..  I am still making up the lost sleep.

Solar Energy in Winter

Solar PV is the most accessible of the sustainable technologies.  Unlike wind turbines which are relatively expensive and require carefully selected locations to be effective, solar panels are relatively cheap and can be located in backyards, fields and roofs.  The downside of solar PV is that it does not work well in an English winter and not at all at night.

Under a clear sky, the ideal mounting for a PV panel is on a tracker device which keeps it pointed at the sun, however, this type of device is expensive and a common solution is to place them on a south facing frame tilted according the latitude of the installation.  This approach will maximise the yield over the period of a year allowing the panel to take advantage of the clear or sparsely clouded skies of summer.

Treat the comments below with caution as they are based on two experiments using  basic measuring devices and I have not yet hat the opportunity to test the ideas with a PV panel.  The hypothesis is that the yield of a PV panel may by higher in winter if it is mounted horizontally.  I'm contemplating some further work for next winter with a project which attempts to maximise the use of wind and solar power, but at the time of writing, no decision has been made.

The first experiment was conducted in 2010.  The equipment was crude, it consisted of a light dependent resistor (LDR) mounted at one end of a short length of waste pipe, this was mounted on some woodwork which allowed it to take readings around the hemisphere of the sky.  The calibration of the LDR was in Lux and whilst this was not ideal, the objective was to observe relative intensities, so units were not too important.

On occasional trips to the Science Museum, I'm inspired by the well crafted instruments and the neatly written notebooks of observations.  These are things I aspire to, this particular device was used as firewood after it had produced a few graphs.  The link below gives a slightly more detailed description of the exercise, but the graphics below show the extremes.

The first graph shows measurements made under a clear sky.

Obviously, the maximum irradiance is mainly direct and at a maximum in the direction of the sun.  Under an overcast sky, this is not the case.

In this case, the irradiance is diffuse and more or less evenly distributed around the hemisphere, albeit at a much lower intensity than under a clear sky.

The second experiment took place during the winter of 2010/11.  The equipment used was the first attempt at a solar radiometer.  Whilst the device did produce some informative data, it also taught the lesson that simplicity, reliability and repeatability should be the design objectives.  The procedure was stand in the back yard with the improvised radiometer around noon and take two observations, the first with the instrument in the horizontal position, then with it inclined to the same angle as the pitch of our roof.  The absolute magnitude of the irradiance was probably dubious, but the presented as ratios is informative.  The graph shows the distribution of the ratio of the irradiance of the horizontal surface to that of the sloped one broken down by cloud cover.

The results show two peaks.  the left one in the colours of a clear or moderately clouded sky shows that the irradiance of the horizontal surface is less than the sloped one.  More interestingly, this is reversed under an overcast sky in which case the irradiance of the horizontal surface is greater, albeit at a much lower level.

One of the challenges of sustainable energy is managing seasonal variation.  In the case of solar energy, the irradiance is determined by sun-earth geometry with the clear sky irradiance in January being less than 20% of that in July and the increased frequency of overcast skies in winter reduces this still further.  Horizontal mounting might increase the winter yield, but by how much is not clear.  I am currently working on a cloud sky computer model which might allow the concept to be explored.