(Download PDF) Engineering Characteristics of Arid Soils First Edition Fookes Online Ebook All Chapter PDF
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ENGINEERING CHARACTERISTICS OF ARID SOILS
Taylor & Francis
Taylor & Francis Group
http:/taylorandfrancis.com
PROCEEDINGS OF THE 1ST INTERNATIONAL SYMPOSIUM
ON ENGINEERING CHARACTERISTICS OF ARID SOILS
LONDON I UK I 6-1 JULY 1993
Engineering Characteristics
of Arid Soils
Edited by
P.G.FOOKES
Winchester, Hampshire, UK
R.H.G.PARRY
ISSMFE, Cambridge, UK
C\ Taylor&Francis
~ Taylor & Francis Group
Organising Committee
P.G. Fookes (Chairman), Consultant
lH. Atkinson, City University London
R.H.G. Parry, ISSMFE
S.l Wheeler, University of Oxford
Sponsors
Geotechnical Engineering Research Centre, City University, London
International Society for Soil Mechanics and Foundation Engineering TC3 on Arid
Soils
The texts of the various papers in this volume were set individually by typists under the supervision of each of the
authors concerned.
Publisher's Note
The publisher has gone to great lengths to ensure the quality of this reprint
but points out that some imperfections in the original may be apparent
Printed and bound by CPI Antony Rowe, Eastbourne
Engineering Characteristics of Arid Soils, Fookes & Parry (eds)
© 1994 Taylor & Francis, ISBN 90 5410 365 5
Table of contents
Preface IX
v
Geotechnical soils mapping for construction purposes in Central Saudi Arabia 69
JS.Griffiths, P.G.Fookes, A.D.Hardingham & R.D.Barsby
Technical note: Development of an engineering description of cemented arid 87
soils and calcrete duricrusts
A.D.Hardingham
Engineering characteristicsof arid soils 91
Izhar-ul-Haq & Sohail Kibria
Classification of expansive soils in arid regions: Thermogravimetric 95
investigation of smectite content
/.Jefferson & USmalley
Keynote lecture:Classification of arid soils for engineering purposes 99
An engineering approach
C.D.F.Rogers, T.A.Dijkstra & USmalley
Classification of arid soils for engineering purposes: A pedological approach 135
USmalley, T.A.Dijkstra & C.D.F.Rogers
Classification of arid soils for specific purposes 145
USmalley, T.A.Dijkstra & C. D. F. Rogers
Engineering soil classification ofthe loess of Gansu, China- Based on 153
sedimentary properties: Relationships to geotechnical behaviour
Wang Jingtai & E. Derbyshire
VII
The Teton Dam failure (Idaho, USA, 1970) 415
C.D.F.Rogers, T.A.Dijkstra & lJSmalley
Wind-blown fine sand in sub-Saharan Northern Nigeria and its influence 419
on dam design and performance
C.JSammons
In-situ investigations of horizontal subsidence deformations 425
A.Y.Shmuelyan
Expansive clay soils and their effects on a factory building in the Sudan 429
N.A.Trenter
Problems on saline soil foundations in arid zone of China 435
Xu Youzai
VIII
Engineering Characteristics of Arid Soils, Fookes & Parry (eds)
© 1994 Taylor & Francis, ISBN 90 5410 365 5
Preface
The suggestion for a symposium exclusively devoted to arid soils stemmed from a
letter to members of the ISSMFE TC3 Committee on Arid Soils by its Chairman,Dr
V. P. Petrukhin of Moscow, 1992. He appealed for an offer to run a symposium at
which he could get together the members of his committee, before the Thirteenth
International Conference on Soil Mechanics and Foundation Engineering due to take
place in New Delhi in January 1994. At this Conference the TC3 Committee was to
report. The United Kingdom responded to his appeal and a small symposium
committee was set up by the UK representative on the TC3 Committee, Professor
P.G.Fookes. This Committee was composed of geotechnical engineers in UK who
were researching or were known to have a positive interest in the subject. Fortunately,
Professor J.H.Atkinson, who became the Secretary to the Symposium Committee,
was able to offer the facilities of the City University, London, and the Symposium
was quickly brought into being. It was organised from the late autumn of 1992
onwards and took place on 6th and 7th July 1993. The TC3 Committee met
immediately following the Symposium, on 8th July.
The outcome of the Arid Soils Symposium was considered most successful,
judged by the quality of the contributions (all prepared, as indicated above, in a very
short time) with representatives from fifteen overseas countries, giving it a truly
international flavour. The Symposium was organised in four Sessions, spread over
the two days. On the first day, the Environment and Classification were addressed
attracting contributions from geologists and geomorphologists as well as from
engineers; these were thought to give a strong background to the engineering
characteristics and case histories on arid soils that formed thefinal two Sessions. The
Proceedings of the Symposium have therefore been laid out in this book following
the Sessions to which papers were assigned. The sessions each had a Session
Reporter and their work is also reproduced here.
One of the many points of interest to emerge from the Symposium was a working
definition of arid soils, viz. 'Arid soils are those conditioned by an arid climate'. This
allows not only soils in the current arid climates to be included in the definition, but
also ancient soils deposited or formed in situ in a former arid climate or subsequently
modified by an arid climate. Broadly speaking, an arid climate is one with a limited
IX
rainfall, where evaporation exceeds precipitation on an annual basis. Arid climates
can be cold as well as hot. There was also a strong measure of support for using the
word 'ground' instead of 'soil' in the title.
The front cover of the book shows the location of 'arid', 'semi arid' and 'sub
tropical dry summer' climates adapted from the Times ( 1967) and Trewartha ( 1968),
which give some indication of the distribution of the world's modem arid soils and is
modified from a paper in the Symposium by Rogers, et al.
The Editors, on behalf of the Symposium Committee, would like to thank all the
delegates who attended the Symposium, those who spoke, those who wrote papers
and the several organisations and individuals who worked to make the Symposium a
success. They would also specifically like to thank the Sponsors of the Symposium
dinner- W. S.Atkins & Partners of Epsom, Surrey; Sir Alexander Gibb & Partners of
Reading, Berks; and Price Brothers (UK) Limited ofWeybridge, Surrey.
The Symposium was also warmly enthusiastic for the suggestion that a second
international symposium be held in four years' time. We hopethis will happen.
X
1 Arid environments and descriptions of arid soils
Taylor & Francis
Taylor & Francis Group
http:/taylorandfrancis.com
Engineering Characteristics of Arid Soils, Fookes & Parry (eds)
© 1994 Taylor & Francis, ISBN 90 5410 365 5
3
circumstances, even fluvial landforms can experience very sudden
major change, as on alluvial fans and in river channels.
Fifth, for all these reasons, arid landforms and soils are very
vulnerable to disturbance, for disturbance can be immediately
magnified by active processes, or may expose an inherited
feature to readjustment to its new environment.
4
Engineering Characteristics of Arid Soils, Fookes & Parry (eds)
© 1994 Taylor & Francis, ISBN 90 5410 365 5
INTRODUCTION
This paper is intended to give an overview of the nature of the arid climate
desiccated clay soils of Basilicata, and the geotechnical conundrums they
pose, especially to the geotechnical engineer with a Northern European
perspective. The paper reflects the extensive experience of both the
Italian and UK collaborators.
5
of funds to create new industries to halt or reverse the depopulation
trends. Naturally, planning for reconstruction has led in many cases to
extensive geotechnical investigations. Many of the results quoted below
have arisen from such investigations.
GEOGRAPHICAL SETTING
Mountainous and hilly terrains dominate Italian land areas, of which only
23% might be classified as plains. In the south, the relative extent of
plains is even smaller, for example in Basilicata and Calabria, where they
occupy only 8-9% of the land area. Fig. 1 divides southern Italy into two
zones on a crude climatic basis: the sub-humid zone (unshaded) which
typically has annual soil moisture deficits of 400mm and the semi-arid
1'
;-·:':···:';Moisture deficit
!".::.-.::."!greater than 600mm
6
of tectonic subsidence and barrier growth. As with other basins of paralic type, halite is
the main type of precipitate.
Goudie and Watson (1984) emplaced blocks of York Stone and of concrete in a transect
across the playa surface and them recovered them after a period of six years. During that
period the concrete blocks broke up very severely, so that out of 36 original blocks used
in a traverse, just one was still identifiable. Thirteen of the original York Stone blocks
remained, and these were mostly split into a series of parallel 'bread and butter' slithers.
1bis simple monitoring experiment indicates the rapidity with which clasts on a ~
surface may disintegrate, and also demonstrates the power of sodium chloride
crystallisation. It is also important to remember that York Stone is a hard Lower
Carboniferous siliceous sandstone which is much used for paving in the UK on account of
its supposed durability.
A major stimulus to salt weathering research over the last two decades has been the
realisation that salt weathering can cause severe damage to buildings and other types of
man-made structure. Observations of such damage have in turn reinforced the views of
those geomorphologists who have stressed the significance of this process.
In recent years it has become recognised that certain major archaeological sites are
suffering from salt-induced breakdown. Voiite (1962) was concerned with the fact that
the construction of dams, by changing the level of water in the River Nile, would also
affect the capillary fringe, thereby causing the migration of salts into temples and other
remains which had previously been relatively immune. Among structures that he records
as being threatened are the temples of Karnak, Luxor, and Philae. The Sphinx is also
disintegrating under the influence of magnesium sulphate efflorescences, and Walther
(1912) provides dramatic photographs of the weathering of the Pyramids.
Hydrological changes have also contributed to the decay of the Harappan site of Mohenjo
Daro in Pakistan. Since this site was excavated in the 1920s and subsequently, the bricks
have disintegrated in the presence of efflorescences of sodium sulphate (Goudie, 1977).
One of the prime reasons for this accelerated decay is that since that time there has been a
great extension in the irrigated area of the Indus Plains as a result of the construction of
the barrage at Sukkur. Continuous replacement of bricks has to be undertaken, and there
are plans for a series of expensive tube wells to reduce the level of the groundwater table.
18
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When he was no longer there my fears returned, and I found
myself again as unhappy as before. I seemed to see my mother
stretched before me in death. I saw once more the horrible men who
dragged me to the station. I hated them wildly, and I fell into
convulsive tremblings, which shook me from head to foot.
In this condition I reached Berlin. Luckily my friends were at the
station. Before my arrival they had even telegraphed to Paris to learn
the news. A reply had come to them that my poor mother was
hovering between life and death. I still had twenty-four hours of
waiting and anxiety.
When I arrived in Paris I perceived at once the beautiful white
beard, the pale and weary face of Dr. Chapman, whose tall form rose
above the crowd. He took me in his arms, and said:
“She is still alive. Come.”
In the carriage he gave me this advice:
“Enter the room and speak to your mother just as if you had
never gone away. Your presence will save her.”
And that is what happened. From the moment of my return she
began to improve. But this illness left her very weak. She had a first
attack of paralysis and her trouble gained imperceptibly upon her,
leaving each day less hope of her recovery.
She was destined, without ever being restored to health, to die in
Paris in February, 1908.
In Russia they started a long lawsuit against me for not having
kept my agreement, and before it was ended I lost, including other
offers, which I could not accept without my electrical apparatus and
my costumes that were held as security, fully 250,000 francs. During
my second season at the Folies-Bergère, when, through the
solicitude of M. Marchand, my dressing-room was always filled with
flowers by reason of the distinguished visitors who came to see me
and to whom the directors would offer champagne, an attachment
was put upon my receipts and we often had hardly enough to eat.
But for the manager’s wife, who at times sent us things to eat in a
basket, I should often have danced on an empty stomach, and have
sipped champagne in my dressing-room without having had anything
to eat at home.
My work on the stage was so fatiguing that when I had finished
dancing the mechanicians would carry me to my appartement, which
was connected with the theatre. I continued this work for a whole
season without being sufficiently well fed to keep up my strength,
and being all the while in an appartement the sanitation of which was
defective. Therein, I am certain, lay one of the reasons for the
progress of my mother’s illness. My health, too, was affected to such
an extent that I am no longer able to endure fatigue as I once
endured it.
However, it all happened as a result of circumstances, and I have
no wish to blame anybody.
The manager of the theatre had given me this appartement and
had had it arranged specially for me in order that I might not be
obliged to go out into the street, heated with dancing.
Since then I have never returned to Russia, for every time that a
journey to that country was mentioned my poor mother trembled with
fright, and there was never any question of my undertaking it.
This adventure at least caused me to believe in one thing—
inspiration. For if the priest in the railway compartment was not
inspired, then what was he?
VIII
SARAH BERNHARDT—THE DREAM AND THE
REALITY
I WAS scarcely sixteen years old. I was then playing ingenue roles
on the road, when on the theatrical horizon there appeared the
announcement that the greatest tragedienne of modern times,
Sarah Bernhardt, the most distinguished of French actresses, was
about to come to America! What an event! We awaited it with
feverish curiosity, for the divine Sarah was not a human being like
the rest of us. She was a spirit endowed with genius.
The circumstance which made my heart throb and caused me to
shed tears copiously was that I was uncertain of being able to see
this wonderful fairy of the stage. I knew beforehand that there would
be no seat for one so insignificant as I was. The newspapers were
printing column upon column about her, and I read everything that I
could get hold of. The papers said that the seats were all bought up,
and that not a hundredth part of those who wanted to see her would
achieve their ambition. The box office was besieged by speculators.
All that, alas! meant that there was scarcely any hope for me. I do
not know whether Sarah had visited America before, for I had all
along been on the road with little travelling companies in the Western
States. So far as I was concerned this was positively her first visit.
At last the famous day arrived. A steamer, with delegations and
an orchestra aboard, went down the bay to meet her. All that
impressed me greatly. I saw in it genuine homage rendered to
genius. She had come at last. She was here. If I could only see her,
even from a distance—from a great distance!
But where and how? I did not know, and I kept on reading the
papers, fairly intoxicating myself with the articles describing her. It
seemed magic, unreality, a fairy tale.
Finally she gave her first performance. The public and critics
appeared to rave over her,—absolutely to rave.
The actors and actresses of New York circulated a petition,
begging her to give a matinee in order that they might honour her
and observe her glorious art.
Wonder of wonders, she accepted! My mind was quickly made
up.
Very recently come to New York, my mother and I were strangers
in the big city. But fortunately I had plenty of courage without
knowing it. When I learned that Sarah was going to play for the
benefit of her fellow-artists, I said to my mother: “Well, now, I am
going to see her.”
“There are so many famous artists in New York,” my mother
replied, “how do you suppose that you can get seats?”
I had not thought of that, so I jumped up, saying:
“Then I had better hurry up.”
“How will you go about it?” asked my mother.
I paused a moment to think the matter over.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “but in some way or other I must see her.
I am going to her theatrical manager.”
“But he won’t receive you.”
Of that I had not thought, either. But I would not hear of any
obstacles. Besides, out West I had never been treated that way. I
was not yet fully aware that people in the West were simpler and
more approachable than in New York.
The objection, therefore, did not appear to me a formidable one,
and I started out with my mother, who always went with me and who
obeyed me in everything without my having the faintest idea but that
I was the obedient one.
Here we were, then, on our way; and, after half an hour’s
walking, we reached the theatre. The manager had not yet arrived.
We sat down to wait for him. A lot of people came in. Some of them
stayed for a while. Others went away at once.
They were all excited, busy and looked worried. What were they
after? Were they going to get all the tickets? The crowd kept
increasing to such an extent that I saw my poor tickets grow smaller
and smaller in perspective and then disappear altogether. And I had
counted so much on them!
Would the manager never come?
At last a great commotion was heard. A group of gentlemen
rushed by like the wind and, without stopping to see what was going
on, disappeared behind a door on which was written “No admission.”
None of us knew what to do after that. Everybody stared at
everybody else. Most of those who were cooling their heels in the
ante-chamber were men. My exhausted nerves would not let me
linger any longer, and I said in a whisper to my mother:
“I am going to knock on the door.”
She turned pale, but I had no choice in the matter. This was the
only way to come to something, even if I ran the risk of heart failure
from an organ that was beating so loudly that I thought it was on the
point of bursting.
My head was in a whirl and I saw nothing for a moment.
Nevertheless I approached the door and gave a gentle knock.
I felt as if I had committed a crime, this little rap resounded so
loudly in my ears. A command to enter that sounded lugubrious was
the response, and I opened the door.
Mechanically I came forward and found myself in the middle of a
group of gentlemen without knowing which of them to address.
Overcome with embarrassment I stood erect in the centre of the
room while everybody looked me over. Then I summoned all my
courage and I said, to the whole circle:
“Gentlemen, I should like to see the manager of this theatre, if
you please.”
When I stopped speaking my teeth began to chatter so loudly
that I bit my tongue.
A gentleman who looked more important than the others came
forward and said:
“What do you want of him, little girl?”
Good heavens, must I speak again before all these people? To
my own astonishment, I heard, as if it were somebody else’s, my
own voice saying in a firm tone:
“Well, it is this way, sir. I am an artist, and I should like to come
with my mother to the matinee that Sarah Bernhardt is going to give
us.”
“Who are you, and where are you playing?”
At this point the tone lost its assurance, while the voice replied:
“You probably don’t know my name, sir. It isn’t well known here.
It’s Loie Fuller. I have come from the West, to try and find an
engagement. I’m not playing anywhere just now, but I think that—it is
of no importance anyway—and that perhaps you will let me just the
same—see her—if I beg it of you.”
“Where is your mother?”
“There, outside,” and I pointed to the door.
“The pale lady, with the sweet expression?”
“Yes, sir. She is pale because she is afraid.”
“And you, are you afraid, too?”
The firm voice reappeared.
“No, sir.”
He looked at me, a slightly ironical smile played on his lips, and
he said:
“Then you think that you are an artist?”
His remark cut me to the quick, but I felt that I must endure
everything. I experienced, nevertheless, a great temptation to cry.
My assurance reasserted itself.
“I have never thought that,” I replied. “But I should like to become
an artist, some day, if I am able.”
“And that is why you are anxious to see the great French
tragedienne play?”
“Yes, I suppose so. But I was thinking only of my longing to see
her, and it was on that account that I came here.”
“Very well, I am going to give you seats for yourself and your
mother.”
“Oh, thank you, sir.”
The manager drew a card from his pocket, wrote something on it
and handed it to me. It was a permit for us to see Sarah Bernhardt
play!
I looked at the card and looked at the manager. He smiled and I
smiled. He extended his hand. I extended both of mine. While he
held my hands he said to me:
“You have my card. Come and see me. Perhaps I can find you an
engagement, little girl.”
There was a new pleasure, and not a vain pleasure, for this
man’s promise was one that was destined to be fulfilled.
“Thank you, thank you very much, sir.”
I went out blinded with tears of happiness, which I could no
longer restrain, and, rejoining my mother, I left the theatre.
“What’s the matter, my dear Loie? What did they say to make you
cry so? What is it?”
“Mamma, mamma, I have a ticket to see her—to see her!”
“Oh, I am so pleased, my dear.”
“And I have a seat for you, too!”
The great day came. We were seated, my mother and I, in the
orchestra stalls. About us there were American artists. In the boxes
were the managers of all the New York theatres and their wives. The
house was filled to overflowing. The three bangs announced the
rising of the curtain. Silence ensued and the play began, I did not
understand a word and no one around me, I fancy, did, either. But
everybody awaited the culminating moment. She appeared, and
there was an almost painful silence in the great overcrowded hall.
Every one held his breath. She came forward lightly, appearing
barely to brush the earth. Then she stopped in the middle of the
stage, and surveyed this audience of actors.
Suddenly pandemonium was let loose. Madness fell upon the
house, and for a quarter of an hour she stood thus, prevented from
playing by the din of the theatre, as if she were the audience. She
looked round, interested, inspired and moved. This tumultuous
crowd was playing with magnificent sincerity a part of indescribable
enthusiasm.
Finally silence was restored. Sarah Bernhardt came forward and
began to read her lines. I believe I understood her soul, her life, her
greatness. She shared her personality with me!
The stage settings were lost on me. I saw and heard only her.
There was frantic applause, encore after encore following each
scene. Then the curtain fell on the final scene, only to be followed by
a great uproar. Then the audience went out slowly, as if regretting to
leave the surroundings.
While I went away a golden voice—the golden voice—seemed
still to resound in my ears, uttering words which I could not
understand: “Je t’aime! je t’aime!” They were like the notes of a
crystal bell resounding in my consciousness.
Who would have thought at that time that the poor little Western
girl would one day come to Paris, would appear there on a stage, in
her turn before an audience trembling with enthusiasm, and that
Sarah Bernhardt would be in the house for the purpose of
applauding this little Western girl, just as the little Western girl had
applauded her to-day?
I was dancing at the Folies-Bergère. At a matinee some one
came to say that Sarah Bernhardt was in a box with her little
daughter. Did I dream? My idol was there. And to see me! Could this
be possible?
I came on to the stage and looked over the audience, which was
filling the hall above and below. Standing quietly, in my great white
robe, I waited for the end of the applause.
I danced and, although she could not know it, I danced for her. I
forgot everything else. I lived again through the famous day in New
York, and I seemed to see her once more, marvellous as she was at
the matinee. And now here was a matinee to which she had come
for the purpose of seeing me—my idol, to see me.
Photo Lafitte
THE DANCE OF THE LILY
I finished.
She rose in her box, she leaned forward toward me to applaud—
and to applaud again. The curtain rose several times. My brain was
in a whirl. Was this real? Was it? Was it she?
It was my turn to become the audience and, as I saw only her,
her audience. And that is how she played to my profound, my perfect
gratification, the part of the whole house.