I know, I know. We
have all been instructed by Arthur C. Clarke to attempt no landings on Europa.
But if you did land on Europa,
wouldn’t you like to know where to go? If you do, my graduate student, Patrick
Fischer, has a paper coming out that you probably want to read.
First, perhaps, it might be best to understand why anyone
would want to land on Europa at all. Europa – the second of Jupiter’s four
large satellites – is clearly a special place. Ever since the time of the
Galileo spacecraft nearly 2 decades ago, we have recognized that Europa’s fresh
icy surface, covered with cracks and ridges and transform faults, is the
external signature of a vast internal salty ocean. If, on a whim, you climbed
down a crack on the surface of Europa and made your way down into the ocean
(which, interestingly, might be something you actually could do; though it is
more likely you would get stuck and squeezed to death; hard to tell) and then
you figured out how to swim down to the rocky bottom something like 100 km
below the base of the ice (a depth 10 times greater than the Marianas Trench,
by the way) you would instantly be able to answer what to me is one of the most
interesting mysteries about Europa. What is happening at the boundary of the
rocky core and the ocean? The answer has profound effects on the type of world
that Europa ultimately is.
What might be happening down there? The least interesting
possibility is that the bottom of the ocean is a stagnant, inactive place:
water on top; rock on bottom; a little dissolution of the rock into the water
in between, but, otherwise, with not much going on. A world like this wouldn’t have much of a
source of chemical energy in the ocean, and it’s hard to imagine it could
support even the most elementary types of life. If you had taken all of that
effort to swim all the way to this cold dark dead ocean bottom, you might start
to ask yourself whether or not it was even worth it. The most interesting
possibility – at least the most interesting possibility that I can think of –
is that the rocky bottom of the ocean is almost like a miniature Earth, with
plate tectonics, continents, deep trenches, and active spreading centers. Think
about mid-ocean ridges on Earth, with their black smokers belching scalding
nutrient-rich waters into a sea floor teaming with life that is surviving on
these chemicals. It doesn’t take much of
an imagination to picture the same sort of rich chemical soup in Europa’s ocean
leading to the evolution of some sort of life, living off of the internal
energy generated inside of Europa’s core. If you’re looking for Europa’s whales
– which many of my friends and I often joke that we are – this is the world you
want to look for them on.
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Sadly, this is not Europa |
Sadly, no one is going to climb down through a crack and
then swim to the bottom of Europa’s ocean for a long long time, so this is
where landing on the surface comes in. If the chemicals that are dissolved
inside of the ocean could somehow make it to the surface, we could learn a lot
about what is going on deep inside of Europa just by analyzing a little a
sample of the surface.
OK,then, let’s go land! But where? You probably only get one
shot at a lander, and you probably don’t get to move once you land, so you had
better pick the right spot. The announcement a couple of years ago, that plumes
of water jetting from Europa’s south pole had been discovered by the Hubble
Space Telescope, seemed to have answered the question: land at the pole, and
wait for plumes to rain down upon you (or, perhaps even more easily, fly
through the plumes and collect samples without even landing!). The bad news,
however, is that the plumes now appear to be elusive at best and non-existent
at worst. Since their initial detection no one has been able to see them again.
Are they (very) sporadic? Was the initial detection an unfortunate spurious
signal that was misinterpreted? No one yet knows, but no one today is going to
count on plumes for measuring the chemical composition of the ocean.
Luckily, our new paper shows that we don’t need plumes to
sample the interior, and we even conveniently point out a potential landing
area that is large enough to easily target with your favorite lander.
First, how do you find a landing site? What we are actually
doing is simply mapping the composition of the ices across the surface of
Europa. Such mapping has been going since the time of the Galileo mission, but
with modern telescopic instruments and high spatial resolution adaptive optics
systems on large telescope on Earth, we can do a better job of making global
scale maps than the Galileo spacecraft ever could. In the earlier Galileo
mapping efforts and in our own early analyses of our own data, we concentrated
mainly on dividing the surface of Europa into an ice component and a non-ice
component and then trying to figure out what the non-ice component was. Like
the earlier Galileo analyses, we found that the dominant non-ice component is
sulfuric acid that is created when sulfur (ultimately derived from volcanoes on
Io!) bombards the water ice on the surface of Europa. We also found, though,
that some of the non-ice material was magnesium sulfate – Epsom salts, in fact
– which we suggested indicated a magnesium source coming from inside of
Europa’s ocean that then mixes with the incoming sulfur.
Patrick Fischer, in his new analysis, decided to take these
ideas one step further. He wanted to know if there is anything else on the surface
of Europa besides just the water ice and the sulfur products. To do so, he took
the spectra of nearly 1600 separate spots on the surface of Europa and started
looking for anything unusual that stood out. The answer was…… maybe. Staring at
that many spectra you’re bound to find something to catch your eye. He needed a
more rigorous method to group the spectra together, and eventually he developed
a very clever new mathematical tool which allows you to take an arbitrary
collection of spectra and automatically, with no preconceived human biases,
classify them into an arbitrary number of distinct spectra, and present maps of
where those materials are present on the surface. When he asked the tool to
give him to find the two most distinct spectra on the surface of Europa, he
reproduced the ice plus sulfur products distributions that had been known for
decades. When he asked for a third distinct spectrum, though, a large region on
the surface of Europa suddenly popped out as being composed of material unlike
the ice or sulfur products of the previous map.
Staring back and forth between the composition map he had just made and
a geological map of the surface of Europa, he was startled to realize that he
had nearly precisely mapped out one of the largest regions of what is called
“chaos terrain” on Europa.
Chaos terrain was noticed early on in the Galileo mission as regions which look like the surface of Europa has become cracked and jumbled and – intriguingly – perhaps even melted in recent times. If you had to vote for a location on Europa where ocean water had recently melted through and dumped its chemicals on the surface, you would vote for chaos terrain. And now Patrick had found that on large regional scales chaos terrain has a different composition than the rest of the surface of Europa!
And what do the spectra tell us that the unique composition
of this chaos terrain is? Sadly, we can’t yet tell. To date, we have not found
unique compositional indicators in the spectra of this region, though our
search is ongoing. Our best bet, though is that we are looking at salts left
over after a large amount of ocean water flowed out on to the surface and then
evaporated away. The best analogy would be to large salt flats in desert
regions of the world. Just like these salt flats, the chemical composition of
the salt reflects whatever materials were dissolved in the water before it
evaporated. On the Earth, salt flats can contain any number of exotic salts,
depending on the surrounding rock chemistry. On Europa, the salts will tell
about the rock chemistry, too, though the rock is the material far below at the
base of the ocean.
We think, then, that we have found a giant salty
patch on the surface of Europa, and very likely the region of most recent
resurfacing and undisturbed chemistry. I have tried very hard to get Patrick to
call this salty patch Margaritaville, but he does not think that graduate
students are quite established enough to make jokes like that. I’ll make it for
him, though. And I will tell you: attempt a landing there! Margaritaville will
not only have salts that tell you about the rock-ocean interaction, but it will
also have samples of everything else that the ocean has to offer. Is there
organic chemistry taking place in the oceans? Look in Margaritaville. Carbonates?
Margaritaville. Microbes? Definitely Margaritaville. All of these are best searched
for with the types of instruments currently roving around on Mars, where you
grab a sample, put it into a machine, and read back out the chemical composition.
But don’t forget to bring the cameras along, too, just to see what else is
lying around. The jumbled and exotic icy
terrain is bound to be a spectacular site up close. You might get lucky and see
a plume shooting off into the sky in the distance. And maybe, just maybe you’ll
even find a few whale bones lying around.