just wants to prove it. It is then very easy for him to convince himself that the purplish result
of the experiment is definitely more red than blue.
This was not going to be a problem in my case. If there was going to be a saltwater
experiment I could only guess what the results might be.
I had no way of knowing if skin could absorb saltwater in the first place. Maybe something
about sweat being salty and sodium partial pressure gradients would prevent any absorption. If
any water was absorbed, would it be saltwater with excess salt being excreted via the kidneys,
would blood sodium levels soar to a dangerous level or would my sweat glands filter out the
salt by reverse osmosis? Would the answer be red or blue or just a murky purple? I had no
idea.
But I really wanted to know.
A lecturer at Ben-Gurion University in Eilat volunteered a couple of her students as poten-
tial guinea pigs, which seemed like a good idea at first. After all, what is the point of having
students if you can’t perform experiments on them? But this was something I wanted to do
for myself.
For one thing being immersed in water produces a powerful diuretic response caused by
a hormone called atrial natriuretic peptide, which is why we feel the need to pee when we get
in the water. If those students were to inadvertently leak any urine during the experiment it
would mess up the results, so if I wanted to be sure, I had to do this myself.
For this experiment, I needed a bit more equipment. Swimming trunks, hat and t-shirt for
spending hours bathing in the hot Mediterranean sun; tick. Towel; tick. Bathroom scales and a
paving slab to give it a level base on the sand; tick. Empty bottles for collecting urine, kitchen
scales for weighing it and a watch for timing the experiment; tick, tick, tick. Oh, and a spirit
level for levelling the paving slab and a pencil and paper for recording data and a thermometer.
I also needed a hydrometer to measure the specific gravity of my urine before and after
the experiment. Fortunately, the local wine-making supplies store in the village was able to
oblige. Tick. All I had to do now was to explain to Chris what I was planning to do and why.
In the summer we spend most afternoons on the beach anyway, usually choosing a nearby
beach where there were hardly any tourists at that time, though nowadays it’s full of sunbeds
and you can order drinks from the mojito bar by wi-fi.
The far end of the beach was also overgrown with an acre or so of leafy reeds seven or
eight feet high that grew right down to the water’s edge. This provided perfect cover for my
makeshift laboratory, where I could set up my equipment and strip naked to weigh myself at
intervals without embarrassing anybody.
I submitted my proposal to Chris and she said it was okay as long as I stayed at the far end
of the beach so nobody would think I had anything to do with her. Fair enough.
Academia Letters, June 2021
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