Salt of the Earth: The Source of Sodium and Chlorine in Our Oceans

As an adult, I sometimes forget to ask the obvious questions.  Kids, though, they have their heads on straight.  Living near the coast, I have the opportunity to visit the ocean pretty often.  Every once in a while I brave the frigid waters, and inevitably taste the salty sea, but I never really think about where it came from.  

Recently, I chatted with a friend about her grade school classroom.  She shared some of the science questions her students had asked.  "Why is the ocean saltier than a lake, even though it's bigger?"  I gave her the spiel: lakes and rivers have salt, but water moves through most lakes (and all rivers).  Most of that water, including salts, end up in the ocean.  Water has an easy route out of the ocean: evaporation.  Salt has no such egress.  It stays put.  Just like the ocean, some lakes and seas without outflows collect large amounts of salt. Therefore, we have Salt Lake in Utah, or the Dead Sea in Europe.  I imagined the students' next question: "Where did the salt come from in the first place?", and realized I didn't have a clue.

There are clues however.   The first is the quantity of elements in the Earth's crust.  The most common elements in sea salt vary greatly in their places on the list of most common elements in Earth's crust.  Sodium weighs in at number 6, while chlorine doesn't even make the top 20.  Sodium, therefore, is in everything.  Wikipedia lists 139 minerals, that are composed in part of the element.  When granite breaks down in water, a mineral group called feldspar releases its sodium to the water, and the water doesn't let go.  This weathering of feldspar, and other sodium minerals, would have delivered plenty of sodium to the Earth's oceans very early in their history.

Being rarer in the crust, it might seem that chlorine levels wouldn't be nearly as high in the sea.  In the ocean, chlorine content surpasses sodium as dominant element.  Why the strange ratios?  As it turns out chlorine doesn't play well with others.  A chlorine ion, which is a chlorine atom that has stolen another poor atom's electron, is large, at least relative to other common elements on Earth's surface.  The patterns these smaller ions create don't leave room for the hefty chlorine.  Chlorine elopes with a free hydrogen ion, and escapes out a volcanic vent, having never formed a rock mineral.  At the surface the hydrochloric acid splits, with the hydrogen joining oxygen to make water, and the chlorine dissolved in the ocean.  As chlorine atoms throughout geologic history jostled their way to the surface through volcanoes the oceans grew saltier.

Curiosity has always driven my study of geology.  But sometimes I forget the obvious.  The next time I visit the ocean and watch the surf gather on the shore, I'll be thinking of dissolving rock, belching volcanoes and the rivers that  bring their remnant salt downstream, my borrowed childlike wonder having been appeased.

Lorence G., Collins. "Time to Accumulate Chloride Ions in the World’s Oceans." Reports of the National Center for Science Education 26.5 (2006): n. pag. California State University Northridge. Web. 22 May 2014.

"How did the salt get into the oceans at the beginning of their formation?." UCSB Science Line sqtest. University of California, Santa Barbara, n.d. Web. 22 May 2014. <http://scienceline.ucsb.edu/getkey.php?key=2968>.

A Piece of Deer Isle: Rapakivi Fingerprints

When I first started learning about rocks I remember being impressed that each rock formation was unique.  The reddish color of a brownstone cobble in Finlayson, Minnesota informed me that the rock had made the 50 mile trip from the iron rich shores of Lake Superior.  I've started to look for fingerprints in rocks, and there is none more common in Maine than the rapakivi crystals of Deer Isle granite.

Deer Isle Stonework in Falmouth, Maine

While the formation has its home on its namesake island downeast, Deer Isle granite is everywhere.  You can hardly take a step in the L.L. Bean flagship store without resting your sole on a slab. I've noted its presence in kitchen counters, cutting boards, and outdoor stonework.  It even secreted itself into the foundation of Yankee Stadium, a long trip for a stone from Red Sox territory.  In any of these locations the rock would be instantly recognizable by its round pink crystals wrapped in a ring of white.

Close up of Deer Isle granite.  Notice the rounded pink crystal
in the center, and the white rim surrounding it.

The ring not only gives up the source location, it tells a story.  The pink mineral, microcline feldspar, is not normally round. When it developed deep under the surface it would have taken the form of a prismatic rod with regular angles. But this was under pressure.  Where the microcline first solidified may have been 10 miles under the surface. That means 10 miles of rock weight are pressing down on our magma stream like the grasp of Superman.  Just like the hero's clutch could turn coal into diamond, the added pressure that comes with this weight turned liquid rock into solid.  But the crystal had formed before its time.

As this slurry of magma and loose crystals rose up toward the surface, the weight pressing on it subsided.  Without the added pressure, the geometric crystals began to melt, leaving only their rounded centers behind. As the ooze ascended, crystal formation conditions changed.  The microcline, more stable in the deeper conditions, would now be replaced by a different mineral, white plagioclase feldspar.  Because the two minerals are very similar, the plagioclase quickly continues the pattern disrupted by the pressure drop.

Conditions must be just so to create this pattern. A cooler magma channel, the white mineral never forms.  The pressure drops too quickly and the pink feldspar melts altogether. Deer Isle granite's unmistakeable fingerprint is a result of its unique story of formation, dissolution, and restoration. This distinctness may be one trait that makes the stone desirable, but it is certainly one that makes it recognizable.

Eklund, O., and A.D. Shebanov. "The origin of rapakivi texture by sub-isothermal decompression." Precambrian Research 95.1-2 (1999): 129-146. Print.

Hooke, Roger Leb.. "A Geologic History of Deer Isle, Maine." College of the Atlantic, Serpentine Ecology Conference. July 2007. Web. 14 Oct. 2013. <www.coacommunity.net/downloads/serpentine08

Nekvasil, Hanna. "Ascent of Felsic Minerals and Formation of Rapakivi." American Mineralogist 76 (1991): 1279-1290. Print.

Prinz, Martin. Rocks and Minerals Simon & Schuster's Guide to Rocks and Minerals.. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster, 1978. Print.