Although the task of swimming like a fish may sound easy at first, scientists have long been trying to analyze the complex design which drives fish through the water so gracefully and efficiently. Through their work at Duke University and at the Bio-Design Studio in downtown Durham, Stephen Wainwright, Ph.D., and Charles Pell have discovered much about the natural design of fish. Combining the talents of a biologist and an artist, the two have used sculpting, painting, and imagination to develop science.
Wainwright, James B. Duke Professor of Zoology, and Pell, who received a Master of the Fine Arts from Notre Dame, have been working together for over three years to combine the tools of art and science at the Bio-Design Studio, a part of Duke's Zoology Department. Pell previously worked for Dinamation, a company which builds full-sized animated models of dinosaurs. Wainwright says he hired Pell "to make 3-D working models of biological systems. Since then," he notes, "we have asked the question of whether or not it's possible to make a blueprint that shows what is in a fish [that enables it to] swim. We can't do that completely yet."
What they have been able to do has astonished and delighted hydrodynamic engineers, Navy personnel, toy companies, and children of all ages. One tangible product of their work is the Twiddly Fish, an artificial fish that moves exactly like a real fish -- swimming, jumping, and changing direction. This simple but realistic model and the related findings have drawn interest from boat-building engineers in the Navy, toy companies, and children (who can play with and learn about the invention at the "Life's Devices" exhibit at the North Carolina Museum of Life and Science.) The Bio-Design Studio has even been invited to work with the Science Applications International Corporation, an engineering-design firm in southern California, and is currently in the process of patenting the Twiddly Fish.
In the process of constructing an accurate ichthyological model, Wainwright and Pell gained numerous insights into fish physiology: they discovered details of how tendons connect a fish's backbone to the muscles that run along its sides, and how those tendons might transmit force in swimming. From one model of a fish's skeleton, they learned that the fish's vertebral spines might provide a fish tail with powerful elastic recoil.
The two men hope not only to continue their efforts in modeling fish physiology, but also to expand the scope of their investigation. One path they may explore is the implications of their work for studies of dolphin and whale locomotion. Wainwright says, "I fully expect that we will have a new understanding of fish swimming by the end of this year thanks to one student here at Duke and one or two at Vassar who are continuing the work." Joelle Simonpietri, a senior biology major at Duke, has worked extensively with Wainwright and is currently completing an independent study under his supervision. Her service in Navy ROTC has motivated her to study applications of Wainwright's hydrodynamic research to the design of submarines used for mine counter-measures.
The methods and philosophical approach that Wainwright and Pell employ are as original as their discoveries. "Art models made by an artist from art materials have given us our hypotheses," explains Wainwright. "Here, art is driving the science. It's not that we wouldn't have reached our hypotheses without the art, but I don't know when that would have been." Pell constructs models to approximate what he and the scientists see in fish design. If the model works as expected, the study builds upon it. If not, it raises useful questions. The simplest model -- the Twiddly Fish -- turned out to be the one that really swims. Pell has made dozens of models from a large variety of "state-of-the-art" materials including string, coat hangers, old dog leashes, wooden rods, and an array of industrial polymers. He explains, "The simplest models tell us the most because they restrict the least. Imagine that you have a 747 and a balloon. Both will fly, but which one is easier to explain and learn from? If a model has more parts, it can become less clear why something does what it does. That fish is one of the simplest models we've ever built, but every day it shows us more."
The unexpected success of the Twiddly Fish has led Wainwright to expect a surge of industrial interest in the young field of "biomimetics" -- the construction and study of nature-mimicking devices -- but few, including Wainwright and Pell, could have accurately foreseen this success. Like many scientific innovations, the Twiddly-Fish had its roots in an unrelated project. The Bio-Design Studio was asked to make a static, colored decoy of a guppy for an experiment. While suspending the fish in a tank of water by a rod, Pell noticed the remarkable way the fish moved when the rod was disturbed. The phenomenon found a home in the open-minded atmosphere of the Bio-Design Studio. "Every unexpected thing is an opportunity for learning," says Pell. "People recognized for making discoveries are often those who have the courage to allow themselves to invest in these opportunities and pursue them. When a person allows the unexpected to cause them to ask new questions, they are learning. You don't understand? Great. Now you've got an opportunity to learn. If you understand, you're done."
Another innovative aspect of Wainwright's and Pell's work is the heavy emphasis placed on hands-on, elementary physics and geometry. Wainwright explains that so much emphasis is placed on the chemical and molecular aspects of biology in modern science that even basic physics is often neglected. "There is so little physics done that some of the simplest things haven't been studied. There is a great opportunity for students to be part of this new wave."
When asked about his inspiration for studying the physical characteristics of nature, Wainwright responded, "I'm sure that I've always been fascinated by visual and tactile things, and since I was a kid, I've always been interested in nature. Structure is my way of connecting with the universe. I feel more comfortable with it than I do with music."
Pell's view of the Bio-Design Studio includes a home-brew for innovation that touches on the roots of science and art. "The Bio-Design Studio," he explains, "is a place where we can take a good hard look at our assumptions. It can make you aware, expose an assumption you weren't aware you were making. The model puts it to the test. Limits are tools, and limits are useful, but they are fossils of our intentions, history, language, and chance. Too often, we don't understand how many limits and assumptions are operating within us.
"Discovery also takes the courage to give yourself permission to keep exploring at the moment when you don't know the answer, when you're at a loss. If you try too hard to avoid mistakes, you build yourself a cage of safety, which isn't always beneficial. One thing that the Bio-Design Studio can do is provide a place to give ourselves permission to make mistakes and be aware of what unexpected events can teach us."
By giving themselves permission to take risks and pursue unconventional paths of study, Wainwright and his colleagues have expanded the horizons of animal physiology and have encountered sometimes surprising answers to the questions that they were not afraid to ask. Their research has led not only to a better understanding of how fish swim, but has also provided insights into how art and science, and physics and biology, can be combined through imagination to answer some of nature's most basic -- and significant -- questions.
At the time this article was written, Michael Ciarlo was a Trinity College junior majoring in biology and completing the certificate program in Science, Technology, and Human Values.