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What is the Science Behind the Boiling River

So what could be causing the river to boil?

Veena M A

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Image credit: Wikimedia/Youtube screen shot/Animal Tube

When Andrés Ruzo, a native of Lima, Peru, was very young, his grandfather told him a captivating story—the story of the Spanish conquest of Peru. Atahualpa, the last ruler of the Inca Empire, was captured and executed by Francisco Pizarro and his Spanish soldiers. They became wealthy by plundering the gold and treasures of the Inca Empire. The tale became widely known in Spain, leading many Spaniards to venture to Peru, eager to claim gold and power. They asked the Incas where they could find more gold, and the Incas pointed toward the Amazon jungle, saying, “Go there, there’s as much gold as you need. There is even a city built of gold called Paititi.”

Spurred by these rumors, the Spaniards entered the Amazon in search of treasure. However, only a few of them returned from the jungle, and they came back with more than just tales of gold. They spoke of a tribe of mighty shamans, warriors armed with poisoned arrows, towering trees that blocked out the sun, eight-legged creatures that ate birds, snakes that devoured humans, and, most notably, a boiling river.

Andrés Ruzo grew up hearing these stories, and the image of the boiling river was etched in his mind. During his PhD studies, focused on geothermal energy potential in Peru, the thought of this river resurfaced. He wondered: Could such a river really exist? He posed the question to his colleagues, the government, and even to oil and gas companies. The unanimous answer was no. While warm rivers exist near volcanoes, there were no volcanoes in the Amazon—especially not in Peru. It seemed unlikely that a boiling river could exist there.

Ruzo once shared this viewpoint with his family during a dinner, but his aunt quickly interrupted. “No, Andrés,” she said, “there is such a river, I have been there.” Her husband agreed, confirming the story. That was when Ruzo’s relationship with the Boiling River truly began. From that moment, he set out to prove that the boiling river in the Amazon was not just a myth.

Ruzo ventured into the Amazon to find the river his grandfather and aunt had spoken of. This river is located in the heart of the Amazon rainforest in central Peru. As Ruzo described in an interview, as he approached the river, he heard what sounded like waves crashing on the shore. Soon, he began to see steam rising through the trees. The river, which he had first learned about through his grandfather’s stories, filled the air with steam. Upon testing the water temperature, Ruzo found it to be 86°C. The river’s temperature ranges from a minimum of 27°C to a maximum of 94°C. Many hot springs feed into the river, adding to the extreme heat. The river stretches for about 9 kilometers, with 6.24 kilometers of it flowing with boiling water. In the summer, the river is hot enough to kill anyone who falls into it. Small creatures, including frogs and snakes, are often found drowned in its waters.

Image credit: Boiling River Project

The only people who live near this river are indigenous tribal communities, particularly the Shaman tribe, who consider the Boiling River sacred. To them, the river is a divine presence, an essential part of their daily life. They believe that Yakumama, the water goddess, transforms cold water into hot. In their language, yaku means water. The tribe uses the water from the river to drink, cook, make medicine, and even inhale the steam rising from its surface.

Locally, the river is known as Shanai Timpishka, which translates to “boiling by the heat of the sun.” But what is the scientific explanation behind the boiling waters of this river?

In 2011, Ruzo began his research on Shanai Timpishka, as little was known about the river outside of the local community. Even the people of Peru regarded the river as a legend rather than a natural phenomenon.

When Ruzo first encountered the river, he too was skeptical about its origin. Typically, rivers with such high temperatures are found near volcanic activity, but the nearest volcano to this river is over 700 kilometers away. So what could be causing the water to boil?

Another possibility was geothermal heat. But to explain the river’s boiling waters through geothermal energy, a massive heat source and a vast system of plumbing would be required to carry hot water to the surface.

With the support of the indigenous tribes living nearby, Ruzo set out to investigate what was truly happening at Shanai Timpishka. Each year, he returned to the Amazon to collect samples and measure the river’s temperature. As he recalls in his TED Talk, his fieldwork was filled with danger and adventure. On one occasion, after a heavy rain, he stood for hours on a small rock in the river, which was flowing at 80°C.

Image credit: Sofía Ruzo/Andres Ruzo/Facebook

Over the course of several years, Ruzo conducted geophysical and geochemical experiments, ultimately reaching several conclusions.

The Boiling River is No Myth

Ruzo’s first major revelation to the world was that the Boiling River in the Amazon was not a mere myth. Despite not being near any volcanic activity, he began to explain the reasons behind the extreme temperatures in the river. The culprit, he concluded, was fault-fed hot springs. Just as blood flows through our veins, hot water travels through fissures in the Earth’s crust. When this hot water reaches the surface, geothermal phenomena like fumaroles (vents releasing gases and steam), hot springs, and boiling rivers like Shanai Timpishka occur.

Ruzo explains that a large hydrothermal system lies beneath the river. As water travels deep into the Earth, it gradually heats up. This is known as the geothermal gradient. The water, originating far below the Earth’s surface, flows through cracks or vents, eventually emerging as boiling water on the surface. The indigenous tribes in the area believe that the cold water from the river is transformed into hot water by the Earth’s heat—a phenomenon they regard as divine.

The river itself stretches across about 6.24 kilometers of boiling waters. It’s filled with large thermal pools, six-meter-high waterfalls, and other unique features. At certain points, the water reaches temperatures hot enough to rival your cup of coffee, and in some sections, the heat is even more intense.

What is Geothermal Heat?

The Earth’s interior consists of three layers: the crust, the mantle, and the core. The core is in a liquid state, and its temperature can reach up to 6,500°C. As water travels deeper into the Earth, it heats up, and as it nears the surface, this geothermal heat manifests itself in the form of fumaroles, hot springs, and rivers like Shanai Timpishka.

The process by which heat energy is released from the Earth’s core is known as geothermal energy. Geothermal energy is a renewable source of energy that is used worldwide for various purposes, including electricity generation.

Why the Boiling River Needs Protection

Although rivers near volcanoes may have hot water, a river with such high temperatures—away from volcanic influence—is exceptionally rare. However, the area around the Boiling River is facing significant threats. Large-scale deforestation is taking place in the region, and the river is also at risk due to industrial development.

While the heat source behind the Boiling River is an extraordinary geothermal phenomenon, more research and studies are still needed to fully understand it. Andrés Ruzo, in collaboration with local tribes, has initiated major efforts to protect the river. The Boiling River Project, based in the United States, is a non-profit initiative aimed at preserving this unique natural wonder. One of the key goals of the project is to declare the area around the river a Peruvian National Monument, ensuring its protection for future generations.

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Meltwater ponds might have sheltered life during earth’s deep freeze

During this time, the planet was believed to be encased in ice, with global temperatures plummeting to as low as -50°C

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Researchers Ian Hawes (University of Waikato) and Marc Schallenberg (University of Otago) assess the physical and chemical properties of a meltwater pond. Credit: Roger Summons

In a study published in Nature Communications, scientists from MIT have proposed that shallow meltwater ponds may have provided critical refuges for early complex life during one of Earth’s most extreme ice ages — the “Snowball Earth” period, which occurred between 635 and 720 million years ago.

During this time, the planet was believed to be encased in ice, with global temperatures plummeting to as low as -50°C. Despite the harsh conditions, complex cellular life — known as eukaryotes — managed to survive. The new research suggests that these life forms could have found sanctuary in small, briny pools formed on the surface of equatorial ice sheets.

“Meltwater ponds are valid candidates for where early eukaryotes could have sheltered during these planet-wide glaciation events,” said lead author Fatima Husain, a graduate researcher in MIT’s Department of Earth, Atmospheric and Planetary Sciences, in a media statement. “This shows us that diversity is present and possible in these sorts of settings. It’s really a story of life’s resilience.”

The team drew parallels between ancient equatorial ice sheets and modern Antarctic conditions. They studied contemporary meltwater ponds on Antarctica’s McMurdo Ice Shelf — an area first dubbed “dirty ice” by explorers in the early 20th century. These ponds, formed by sun-warmed dark debris trapped within surface ice, provided a modern analog to the possible melt environments of the Cryogenian Period.

Samples taken from these Antarctic ponds revealed clear signatures of eukaryotic life. Using chemical and genetic analysis, including the identification of sterols and ribosomal RNA, the researchers detected algae, protists, and microscopic animals — all descendants of early eukaryotes. Each pond supported unique communities, with differences shaped largely by salinity levels.

“No two ponds were alike,” Husain noted. “There are repeating casts of characters, but they’re present in different abundances. We found diverse assemblages of eukaryotes from all the major groups in all the ponds studied.”

These findings suggest that meltwater ponds — overlooked in previous hypotheses — could have served as vital “above-ice oases” for survival and even diversification during Snowball Earth.

“There are many hypotheses for where life could have survived and sheltered during the Cryogenian, but we don’t have excellent analogs for all of them,” Husain explained. “Above-ice meltwater ponds occur on Earth today and are accessible, giving us the opportunity to really focus in on the eukaryotes which live in these environments.”

The study was co-authored by MIT’s Roger Summons, Thomas Evans (formerly MIT), Jasmin Millar of Cardiff University, Anne Jungblut of the Natural History Museum in London, and Ian Hawes of the University of Waikato in New Zealand.

By uncovering how life may have persisted through Earth’s frozen past, the research not only deepens understanding of our planet’s history — it may also help inform the search for life on icy worlds beyond Earth.

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In ancient India, mushy earth made for perfume scent

Kannauj, a city in the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, offers a sustainable alternative in producing perfumes using traditional modes of distillation.

Khushboo Agrahari

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Copper stills involved in dheg-bhakpa hydro-distillation | Photo Credit: By special arrangement

A sweet scent typically lingers around in the air at Kannauj, an ancient city in India’s most populous state of Uttar Pradesh. It’s an imprint of the countless occasions when it had rained, of roses that bloomed at dawn, and of sandalwood trees that once breathed centuries of calm.. Though mushy smells are not unique to Kannauj, the city utilized traditional distillation methods to make perfume out of these earthly scents.

Kannauj has had a longstanding tradition in perfume-making since four centuries ago. The city, colloquially known as the country’s ancient perfume capital, still uses rustic copper stills, wood-fired ovens, and bamboo pipes leading to sandalwood oil-filled vessels, or attar as it is colloquially known, to make their perfume. Though it gives a pre-industrial look, a closer peek would reveal an ecosystem of complex thermal regulation, plant chemistry, sustainability science, and hydro-distillation chemistry at work.

When synthetically-made but sustainable perfumes, and AI-generated ones share the spotlight today, Kannauj’s tryst with perfumes offer an alternative, sustainable model in traditional distillation, which is inherently low-carbon, zero-waste, and follow principles of a circular economy; all in alignment with sustainable development goals.

Traditional perfume-making is naturally sustainable

In industrial processing, hydro-distillation is a commonly done to separate substances with different boiling points. Heating the liquids produce vapors, which can later be liquefied in a separate chamber. Perfumers in Kannauj follow the same practice, except it promises to be more sustainable with the copper stills, a process colloquially known as dheg-bhakpa hydro-distillation.

There’s no alcohol or synthetic agents in use. Instead, they heat up raw botanicals – such as roses, vetiver roots, jasmine, or even sunbaked clay – to precise temperatures well short of burning, thereby producing fragrant vapor. The vapors are then guided into cooling chambers, where they condense and bond with a natural fixative, often sandalwood oil. Plant residue is the only byproduct, which finds use as organic compost to cultivate another generation of crops.

The setup for dheg-bhapka hydro-distillation to make perfume | Photo Credit: By special arrangement.

Trapping earthly scent to make perfume

In the past five years, Kannauj’s veteran perfumers noticed a quiet, but steady shift in their timely harvest and produce. Rose harvests have moved earlier by weeks. Vetiver roots grow shallower due to erratic rainfall. Jasmine yields are fluctuating wildly. The local Ganges river, which influences humidity levels essential for distillation timing, is no longer as predictable. For an entire natural aromatic economy built on seasonal synchrony, this uncertainty has rung alarm bells.

“The scent of a flower depends not just on the flower itself,” Vipin Dixit, a third-generation attar-maker whose family has distilled fragrance for decades, said to EdPublica.

“It depends on the weather the night before, on the heat at sunrise, on the moisture in the air. Even the soil has a scent-memory.”

Vipin Dixit, a third-generation attar-maker, whose family have distilled fragrance for decades | Photo Credit: By special arrangement.

As a result, perfumers in Kannauj have begun to adapt, applying traditional wisdom through a modern scientific lens. Local distillers are now working with botanists and environmental scientists to study soil microbiomes, measure scent compounds using chromatography, and develop community-based rainwater harvesting to ensure sustainable crop health.

One of the most surprising innovations is trapping petrichor — the scent of first rain — through earth attars. Clay is baked during extreme heat waves, mimicking summer conditions, then distilled to trap the scent of rain hitting dry soil. This aroma, called mitti attar, is one of the few scents in the world created from an environmental phenomenon; and not a flower.

At a time when the world is scrambling to save biodiversity, the humble attar may become a template for green chemistry — one that doesn’t just preserve scent, but also restores the relationship between science, nature, and soul.

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Earth

A Region on the Edge: Ocean Heat, Island Peril, and a Global Wake-up Call

Real-world impacts in the South-West Pacific — from disappearing glaciers to cultural erosion in Fiji — illustrate what is at stake.

Dipin Damodharan

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Image credit: Gonzalo de Martorell from Pixabay

In a stark warning for the world, the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) released its latest report in June first week, The State of the Climate in the South-West Pacific 2024, painting a vivid picture of escalating climate extremes across ocean and land. The report, released to coincide with the 2025 Global Platform on Disaster Risk Reduction in Geneva and ahead of the 2025 UN Ocean Conference, warns that the South-West Pacific is already grappling with the climate future the rest of the world fears.

A record-breaking Year

2024 marked the warmest year on record for the region, driven by El Niño conditions and unprecedented ocean heating. Nearly 40 million square kilometers — over 10% of the global ocean surface — was scorched by marine heatwaves.

“2024 was the warmest year on record in the South-West Pacific region. Ocean heat and acidification combined to inflict long-lasting damage to marine ecosystems and economies. Sea-level rise is an existential threat to entire island nations. It is increasingly evident that we are fast running out of time to turn the tide,” said WMO Secretary-General Prof. Celeste Saulo in a recent media statement.

The heat was not limited to oceans. Extreme temperatures shattered records in Australia and the Philippines, increasing health risks and straining already vulnerable infrastructure.

Storms, floods, and vanishing ice

The report recounts an unprecedented cyclone season in the Philippines: 12 storms in just three months, affecting over 13 million people and displacing 1.4 million. Meanwhile, Indonesia’s last tropical glacier in New Guinea may vanish by 2026. Satellite estimates show a 30-50% ice loss since 2022.

Precipitation patterns swung to extremes. While Malaysia, Indonesia, and Papua New Guinea faced above-average rainfall and floods, parts of Australia and New Zealand were parched by drought.

The ocean in crisis

The annual sea surface temperature in 2024 was the highest since records began in the early 1980s. Combined with acidification and deoxygenation, ocean warming is devastating marine life and altering storm patterns.

Worryingly, the South-West Pacific sea-level rise already exceeds the global average, threatening islands where over half the population lives within 500 meters of the coast.

Displacement and cultural loss

The Fijian island of Serua, battered by floods and eroding shores, exemplifies the dire choices communities must make.

Despite government offers to relocate, many residents resist because of their deep connection to the land, or “vanua,” a concept embedding identity, spirituality, and ancestry.

“On two separate occasions, the island experienced such extreme flooding that it was possible to cross the entire island by boat without encountering land,” the WMO report said.

Hope in anticipation: Early warnings save lives

Not all is bleak. A case study from the Philippines showcased how early warning systems and anticipatory action helped mitigate the toll of the 2024 cyclone season. The Food and Agriculture Organization’s anticipatory action teams helped relocate fishing boats and distribute cash aid ahead of the storms.

“While the frequency of tropical cyclones may decrease, their intensity will rise. Building resilience is essential,” the report warns.

A Global Response: UNOC3 Signals Change, But Action Must Follow

As the WMO’s warnings echoed, the United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC3) concluded in Nice, France (June 9-13, 2025), providing a parallel platform of hope and accountability.

  • The High Seas Treaty reached 49 ratifications, nearing the 60 needed for enforcement.
  • Nearly $10 billion in funding was pledged for ocean health, though experts note that the real need is $175 billion annually.
  • Countries endorsed the 30×30 conservation goal and backed measures against deep-sea mining and plastic pollution.

“We must move from plunder to protection,” said UN Secretary-General António Guterres in his closing address.

These developments reinforce the urgency of the WMO findings. Real-world impacts in the South-West Pacific — from disappearing glaciers to cultural erosion in Fiji — illustrate what is at stake.

The South-West Pacific is not a distant front line. It is the epicenter of an unfolding climate reality. With international mechanisms like the High Seas Treaty nearing activation and early warning systems proving effective, the question is no longer whether we can respond — but whether we will act in time.

As the seas rise and the clock ticks, it’s not just islands at risk. It’s the future of global climate stability.

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