B.C. firms lead the way in developing machines to pull moisture
from air
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CREDIT: Jean-Marc Bouju, Assoicated Press
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Nations such as Eritrea face regular catastrophic
droughts, so water-vapour collectors would only be a
small part of the solution.
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CREDIT: Peter Battistoni, Vancouver Sun
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Researcher Roland Wahlgren says atmospheric water
vapour has potential to end the world's shortage of
clean, potable water.
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In the search for new sources of water, everyone is looking
down, to the sea or under the ground. But Roland Wahlgren is
looking up -- to the vast, untapped fresh-water reservoir in the
sky.
The dedicated North Vancouver researcher is one of a small
band of scientists whose work has been largely ignored for
decades. But these researchers say they've found hope for a
world in which rivers and lakes are shrinking, water tables are
dropping and contamination levels are on the rise.
With 1.5 billion people -- one in five -- parched, sick or
dying for want of safe drinking water, says Wahlgren, it is an
idea whose time should have come long ago.
Adapting simple dehumidifiers, scientists have designed
machines that can pull water out of thin air, in amounts that
could make the difference between life and death in many
water-starved countries.
The simplicity of the atmospheric water vapour processing
unit belies its ponderous name. And the invention is
surprisingly effective: A unit the size of a skyscraper or a
low-rise plant as long as a city block can theoretically produce
5.8 million litres of water a day -- enough for about 387,000
people. Under the right atmospheric conditions, one
water-cooler-sized unit can help provide cooking and drinking
water for a family, simply by harvesting the water vapour from
humid air.
In more than half the countries in the world -- some of them
the poorest, most populous and most water-deprived -- the air is
humid enough to yield huge amounts of precious water.
Even large-scale water-vapour extraction would have virtually
no negative environmental effects, says Walgren, because of the
sheer quantity of water vapour in the atmosphere. It contains
four to 25 grams of water vapour per cubic metre, or 13,000
cubic kilometres of fresh water in total, scientists say.
Water-vapour condensers don't need much humidity: If the air
has 10 grams of water per cubic metre, a unit can change 10 to
40 per cent of that water vapour to liquid. Most nations within
30 degrees latitude north and south of the Equator already have
more vapour than they need -- an average 15 to 20 grams of water
per cubic metre of air, year-round.
By contrast, Vancouver averages only 10 grams each in summer,
and less as temperatures drop. The atmosphere over much of the
relatively water-rich developed world is not ideal for optimum
production, as cool air carries less moisture than the warm air
that prevails in countries within 30 degrees latitude of the
Equator.
But the technology would still be useful in North America's
temperate zones, says Wahlgren, who holds a Master's degree in
physical geography.
On an August day in Vancouver, a unit the size of a household
dehumidifier would produce 35 litres of water a day -- only 15
litres short of the minimum daily amount for one person,
according to the United Nations. In January, if kept from
freezing, the water output from a unit in Vancouver would be 17
litres.
?
Roland Wahlgren, 50, has been developing atmospheric water
vapour processing units for three years, from his home-based
business, Atmoswater Research company.
He tested two water-cooler sized prototypes -- one in his
house and one outside -- during the spring and summer. His
family of three used their 12-litre daily output for drinking,
cooking and making tea, after carbon-filter and ultraviolet
treatment to purify the water. "The tea tasted
delicious," says Wahlgren.
He helped design another prototype that is now producing 70
litres a day in Florida's hot, humid climate.
Wahlgren is not alone. Canadian inventors are leading the
race to develop "first-generation" commercial water
machines, although inventors worldwide aren't far behind.
Jonathan Ritchey, from his Freedom Water Company, based in
Vernon, is working with Okanagan University College in Kelowna
and the federal National Research Council to perfect and market
his solar-powered model.
And Keith White and Ray Anderson, from TTW International Ltd.
in Vancouver, are already marketing Montreal-based Dectron
Internationale's line of home, business and military units.
The stand-alone units, which they believe are the first in
production worldwide, run on electricity or generators.
The question is: Why has it taken so long for scientists to
invent a way of pulling water from the sky?
"Ninety-five per cent of people involved in water
resources are still very much focused on ground and surface
water," explains Wahlgren.
But the preoccupation with ground and surface water can lead
to political conflict, even war, as countries vie for control of
shared rivers and lakes and plummeting water tables.
Of the world's 200 largest river systems, 120 run through two
or more countries. Even relatively water-rich Canada has come
into conflict with its neighbour and ally, the U.S., over water.
?
Wahlgren says his personal "point of distress" came
in 1984, when crop failures due to drought triggered widespread
starvation in Africa. He started to look for "something
unconventional that other people hadn't thought of."
With an undergraduate degree in geography from the University
of British Columbia and a Master's from Carleton University, he
instinctively turned his attention to the interplay of earth,
water and land.
"I was aware of water in the air and thought there would
be a way to somehow transport it to places where it's
needed," he says.
He found that other people had indeed thought about it --
hundreds of years ago.
The large-scale collection of dew -- nature's own method of
recouping water vapour -- has long been ascribed to ancient
Hebrews and Greeks, who are thought to have arranged stones to
collect moisture from condensation as night temperatures fell.
Early in the 20th century, Russian engineer Feodor Zibold
thought the ancient landmark stone piles around the modern city
of Feodesia in Ukraine were the ruins of an enormous dew
condenser. He saw them as part of a huge system of collectors
that supplied that city's ancient predecessor, Theodosia, with
its water supply.
Inspired, in 1912 he completed a huge beehive structure -- a
20-metre bowl of stones dug into the earth, and topped by a six-metre
dome. It reportedly yielded 350 litres of water daily.
The famous French water researcher, Daniel Beysens, later
argued that Zibold was mistaken: The stone piles were not dew
condensers but ancient kourganes, the famous tombs the Scythians
built between the 9th and 3rd centuries B.C. across southern
Europe and the Asian sector of the former Soviet Union.
Historical miscalculations aside, the science itself had
merit. Beysens set up modern-day condensers in Tunisia and
France in 1995, with heartening results.
He found dew collectors can provide the equivalent of 0.1mm
to 0.5 mm of daily rainfall -- one-third of Ottawa's daily
summer rainfall.
This could lead, Mr. Beysens said, "to a new generation
of condensers able to provide clean water wherever ordinary
means cannot be used."
One tenacious Swedish researcher, Bo Hellstrom, professor of
hydraulics at the Royal Institute of Technology in Stockholm,
included this aside in an otherwise technical 1969 paper,
Potable Water Extracted from the Air: "When visiting the
Hydraulic Laboratory, the Minister of Health of this [Arabian]
state said to the Author: 'I will give you as much oil as you
want, free of charge, if you give me water.' "
The swap never took place. The identity of that country died
with the researcher, whose quest had taken him to Egypt in 1953
to compare the dew-collecting qualities of different kinds of
leaves. (Thin-leafed barley plants beat out olive trees as water
collectors.)
Hellstrom's own experiments showed the "feasibility of
the method has been fully proved." It would be an
alternative source of water, he stated, where drinking water is
expensive and needed in small quantities.
A colleague, H.E. Landsberg, was also enthusiastic about the
potential of water condensers: "It is about time," he
told a Washington, D.C., assembly of scientists in 1972,
"that serious thought be given to the exploitation, by
engineering methods, of that enormous water reservoir in the
air."
And that was before the current crises over climate change,
water pollution and water-table depletion. Once again, Ethiopia,
Eritrea and much of southern Africa are facing catastrophe as a
result of drought.
For such water-starved regions, water-vapour collectors will
only be a small part of the solution, Wahlgren says.
Desalination and distillation plants provide most of the
purified water there, and will continue to be an important part
of the picture, he predicts.
Water conservation is equally important, he adds. And that,
for him, does not mean simply curtailing desert swimming pools
and lawn watering. It also means halting wasteful irrigation
practices and fixing leaky pipes, which account for a worldwide
hemorrhage of some 60 per cent of the available purified water.
But, given the severity of water shortages and limits to
expensive purification systems, he says, the world needs the
flexibility of water-vapour collectors.
Strangely, though, the field remains relatively obscure, he
says. Research results and patent information are scattered,
with researchers and inventors working in semi-isolation.
"I could see that there had been so much work done on
this whole topic, but no one was tying it altogether," says
Wahlgren, who pulled together two years' worth of research in an
exhaustive review that appeared last year in Water Research: A
Journal of the International Water Association.
The biggest market for these devices, he says, lies in that
crucial band of nations with enough humidity to generate water.
They include Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Zaire, Uganda, Nigeria, Ghana,
Mozambique, Tanzania, Kenya, Brazil, Indonesia, Malaysia and
Myanmar, the Barbados and Haiti.
However, the drought on the North American Prairies, along
with rising temperatures and the prospect of further dry summers
and winters, he says, will make the problem more urgent for
North Americans.
Last summer, drought ravaged the herds of Prairie cattle, and
thousands of Alberta horses had to be slaughtered.
"With water shortages at this scale," he says,
"you couldn't irrigate a field -- but you could set up
cattle watering stations" using water-vapour condensers.
Within 10 years, Wahlgren predicts, large-appliance
manufacturers will integrate these water machines into standard
product lines.
"People are interested in security" when it comes
to their water supply, he says. They don't want to worry about
the contamination of centralized water supplies, such as the E.
coli breakout in Walkerton in May 2000. Recent tests have shown
water produced by vapour condensers in Vancouver, Florida and
Texas is remarkably pure, with bacteria, nitrates, arsenic,
organic chemicals, metals, pesticides and radioactive materials
"below detectable limits."
The safety of the water supply will become an even greater
concern in the wake of repeated warnings that terrorists might
target drinking water, he adds.
But for the moment, he likens the development of water-vapour
collectors to the early days of automobile production.
He hopes North Americans will raise money for the research
and development of "really basic sturdy Model T type units
that anyone could repair."
"If you have a source of water from the air, and only
have to purify it," he asks, "why not use that?"