Saudi Arabia Pumped Million Gallons of Salt Water and Put It Under the Desert Sand, Result is Insane
Can you hear it? It’s not just the wind howling through the desolate desert; it’s the ominous ticking of a countdown—a time bomb threatening the very foundation of a $3.5 trillion economy. California, the golden state that epitomizes the American dream, is dying before our eyes. Its reservoirs are drying up, its agricultural heart is faltering, and the very essence of life in this arid land hangs by a thread. The specter of drought looms large, pushing humanity to the brink of desperation, forcing us to make choices that defy the natural order.
In the face of such an existential crisis, California has embarked on a daring and audacious journey to reclaim its future. This is a story of innovation, a tale of survival against all odds, where the state is not merely fighting against nature but attempting to rewrite the rules of existence itself.
The Ocean’s Teasing Embrace

Imagine California as a person standing at the edge of a vast ocean, surrounded by an immense reservoir of water that is utterly undrinkable. The Pacific Ocean, with its tantalizing waves, is a cruel joke—3.5% salinity rendering it toxic to human life and a death sentence for crops. Yet, in Carlsbad, north of San Diego, engineers have decided to change this fate. They are constructing the largest desalination plant in the Western Hemisphere, a monumental undertaking that could reshape the future of water in California.
To grasp the scale of this endeavor, we must start at what can only be described as a gateway to hell—the water intake system. You can’t simply drop a plastic pipe into the ocean; the powerful currents of the Pacific are relentless. Engineers have installed massive pipes made of reinforced concrete and HDPE, 23 feet in diameter, strong enough to withstand the ocean’s fury. These pipes are anchored to the seabed with tons of concrete blocks, designed to resist erosion and the impact of tsunamis.
But the true challenge lies beneath the surface—not the ocean’s might, but its inhabitants. To prevent the intake of countless fish and shrimp, the intake system features low-velocity screens that allow water to flow in gently, giving marine life a chance to escape. Once the seawater is brought ashore, the real battle begins.
The Chaotic Transformation
Raw seawater is a chaotic mixture of salt, sand, bacteria, algae, and oils. If this concoction were to enter the delicate filtration systems directly, they would be destroyed within minutes. Thus begins the crucial pretreatment phase, akin to sharpening a scalpel before surgery. In coagulation tanks, tons of chemicals like ferric chloride are pumped in, acting like magnets that attract tiny dirt particles, causing them to clump together into larger flocs.
Gravity then takes over, pulling these clumps to the bottom of the tanks, leaving behind a layer of clear water on top. But clear does not mean salt-free. This is where we enter the heart of the beast: the reverse osmosis system. To separate salt from water at the molecular level, immense force is required.
In nature, water flows from areas of low salt concentration to high salt concentration—a process known as osmosis. To do the reverse, we must apply physical violence. Gigantic high-pressure pumps consume energy equivalent to an entire neighborhood, compressing seawater to a staggering pressure of 60 to 73 bar.
To put this into perspective, this pressure is like being 600 meters deep in the ocean or standing in front of a fire hose blasting water at you. Under this crushing force, seawater is forced through semi-permeable membranes, the pinnacle of material technology. The pores in these filters are so tiny that if they were scaled up to the size of the United States, the holes would be no bigger than an orange.
Only the small, agile water molecules can slip through this narrow passage, while salt ions, bacteria, and viruses are completely blocked. The result is two separate streams: one pure, devoid of minerals, and one heavily salted brine.
The Price of Purity
This pure water is so clean that it is corrosive to pipes due to its mineral deficiency. Engineers must then perform a remineralization step, adding calcium and magnesium from limestone to ensure the water has a natural taste and balanced pH, making it safe for human consumption. However, the cost of this process is staggering.
Producing freshwater at a pressure of 73 bar consumes about 3 to 4 kWh of electricity per cubic meter—double the cost of treating river water. But when reservoirs run dry, money becomes meaningless. This technology is not just engineering; it’s a lifeline for millions.
If desalination is a micro-level battle at the molecular scale, California’s water delivery system is a macro-level war on a continental scale. This is the largest public works project in U.S. history, an effort to correct nature’s design flaws. Seventy-five percent of rainfall occurs in the north, while 80% of water demand lies in the arid south.
The Grand Design
This system begins in the majestic Sierra Nevada mountains. For thousands of years, snow on these peaks melted naturally in spring, nourishing the ecosystem. Yet humanity cannot wait for the whims of spring. We have built colossal dams, such as the Oroville Dam—the tallest earth-filled dam in the U.S. at 235 meters—transforming valleys into artificial reservoirs with capacities of billions of cubic meters.
Oroville Lake is not just a reservoir; it’s a power bank and a treasure trove, capturing every precious drop before it flows into the ocean. From here, water embarks on a nearly 700-kilometer journey south through the California Aqueduct. This is no ordinary canal; it’s a man-made river lined with reinforced concrete to prevent water from seeping into the parched desert soil.
Imagine a river 12 meters wide and 9 meters deep, cutting through the driest lands in America, winding like a colossal concrete serpent. To operate this river, engineers face the greatest enemy: gravity. Water does not flow uphill on its own. Along this journey, it must pass through a series of pumping stations to maintain its flow.
The ultimate challenge lies in the Tehachapi Mountains, a granite wall blocking the descent to Los Angeles. Here, engineers constructed the Edmonston Pumping Station, the largest water-lifting station in the world. Picture this: 14 massive centrifugal pumps, each the size of a five-story house, operating at full capacity. Their mission is to push millions of tons of water up to nearly 600 meters—higher than the One World Trade Center—in a single pumping cycle.
The noise inside this pumping station is deafening, capable of shaking your chest. The energy required for this monumental lift consumes about 2 to 3% of the state’s total electricity output. They burn electricity for water. Once over the mountain, the water cascades down through pressure pipes, generating electricity through hydroelectric plants that recover some of the lost energy.
However, the true value of this water lies not in electricity but in its destination: the Central Valley. Thanks to a massive network of auxiliary channels, this water transforms a semi-desert region into the fruit basket of the world. Almond orchards, vineyards, and fields of crops stretch as far as the eye can see in California, all made possible by this artificial lifeline.
The Looming Crisis
Yet, this grand design reveals a critical vulnerability. Climate change is drastically reducing the snowpack on the Sierra Nevada. Oroville Lake, once brimming with water, now reveals parched canyons. Those colossal concrete pipes become useless without the flow of water.
This dire situation forces California to reconsider a resource they once deemed worthless and frightening: wastewater. In a world of scarcity, the notion of wastewater becomes an unacceptable waste. In Orange County, home to the largest groundwater replenishment system in the world, engineers are proving a shocking truth.
Recycled water from sewers is cleaner than the rainwater or bottled water you drink. This process begins in the foulest of places—the city’s sewer system. Millions of liters of dark water, filled with human waste, oils, and cleaning chemicals, flow into treatment plants. The first step is pure mechanical filtration.
Giant screens work like colossal combs, catching toilet paper, plastic waste, and other debris. After removing the coarse refuse, the water enters primary settling tanks to allow heavy solids to sink. But the real magic occurs in the secondary biological treatment phase. Here, engineers don’t rely on machines; they employ a biological army of bacteria.
In aeration tanks, bubbling with oxygen, trillions of aerobic microorganisms feast on the organic waste in the water. This process, known as activated sludge, mimics how rivers naturally cleanse themselves but accelerates it a thousandfold. These bacteria also perform nitrification and denitrification, transforming ammonia from urine into harmless nitrogen gas that escapes into the atmosphere, eliminating the foul odor of wastewater.
After passing through this biological filter, the water is relatively clear and can be used for irrigation. But to make it safe for human consumption, it must go through a triple threat of advanced filtration technology.
First is microfiltration. Water is drawn through hollow fibers made of polypropylene with pores as small as 0.2 microns. This stage removes all bacteria, protozoa, and remaining suspended particles. Next, reverse osmosis comes into play again. But this time, its mission is not to separate salt but to eliminate chemical ghosts—pharmaceuticals, antibiotics, hormones, pesticides, and super-small industrial chemicals that conventional processes miss.
The RO membrane blocks everything except pure water molecules, and finally, the ultimate safety net: ultraviolet (UV) light combined with hydrogen peroxide. The water flows through a chamber filled with high-intensity UV lamps. This purple light disrupts the DNA structure of any surviving viruses, rendering them biologically impotent and unable to reproduce.
Simultaneously, hydrogen peroxide generates powerful hydroxyl radicals, oxidizing and eliminating any remaining traces of contamination. The water emerging from this facility is so pure that it resembles distilled water. In Orange County, instead of directly pumping it into taps—due to psychological concerns—the recycled water is pumped into deep underground aquifers.
Here, the recycled water mixes with natural groundwater, percolating through layers of soil and rock for months. This process serves as both a natural filtration step and a psychological buffer, helping the public accept drinking it. When you turn on the tap in California today, you might very well be drinking a drop of water that once flowed in a neighbor’s toilet months ago. Yet, chemically, it’s purer than any spring water on Earth.
Conclusion: A Testament to Human Ingenuity
This remarkable journey showcases humanity’s ability to transform the most discarded resources into invaluable lifelines. California is not merely constructing infrastructure; it is crafting a survival blueprint for humanity.
As the world grapples with the challenges of climate change and dwindling resources, California’s story serves as a beacon of hope and innovation. It reminds us that when pushed to the brink, human ingenuity can turn the tide, ensuring that life continues to flourish against all odds.
In the face of adversity, we must embrace the lessons learned from California’s battle for water, recognizing that our survival depends on our ability to adapt, innovate, and work together. The future of water management lies not just in technology but in our commitment to sustainability and stewardship of the earth’s precious resources. Through collaboration and creativity, we can forge a path toward a more resilient and sustainable future for all.