1. Introduction
Wave interaction with coastal structures is modeled with tools that range from depth-integrated models to interface-capturing Navier–Stokes solvers [
1,
2] and meshless particle methods [
3,
4], and the choice among them follows from the response to be predicted [
5]. Where that response is local, such as the pressure on a structure or the flow within a porous body, a volume-of-fluid solver is the usual choice. Two such solvers are used widely in coastal engineering, OpenFOAM and FLOW-3D, and they represent the open-source and commercial approaches, respectively [
5]. OpenFOAM is a platform rather than a fixed solver, and dedicated libraries for wave generation, absorption and porous media have been built on it and released openly [
6,
7,
8,
9,
10,
11,
12]. FLOW-3D is an integrated commercial code in which those elements are supplied together. Its volume-of-fluid scheme keeps the interface sharp without resolving the air phase, and its fractional area/volume representation embeds geometry in a structured Cartesian mesh, so that no body-fitted grid is needed [
13,
14,
15].
Solitary waves have been studied extensively with both models. With OpenFOAM, the run-up of solitary-wave trains on a uniform beach has been reproduced in detail [
16], and the overland flow of broken solitary waves has been validated against large-scale experiments [
17]. Solitary-wave overtopping of impermeable and porous revetments has been examined through the wave-generation toolboxes released for the platform [
1,
10,
12]. The review of Huang et al. [
5] catalogues a still-wider body of wave–structure applications built on it. FLOW-3D has an equally long record of application to the same condition. It has been used for solitary-wave run-up around conical islands and on non-planar beaches [
18,
19] and validated across the standard tsunami benchmark problems [
20], for which its Cartesian meshing allows large domains to be set up quickly.
Porous coastal structures have likewise been studied extensively with both models. Within OpenFOAM, volume-averaged closures for flow through rubble mounds were formulated and validated against wave-basin measurements [
6,
7]. The porous-media equations and their resistance coefficients were re-examined in a dedicated series of studies [
8,
9], and the resulting models were applied to tsunami attack on rubble-mound breakwaters [
21]. Within FLOW-3D, the flow between armor blocks has been resolved by building the individual units as geometry rather than as a porous medium [
22], and run-up, reflection and overtopping have been simulated for breakwaters covered with antifer units [
23]. The fractional-volume representation makes that geometric approach practical on a structured mesh.
Direct comparisons between the two models have been reported for a low Reynolds number hydraulic jump [
10], for a vertical-slot fishway [
11] and, most recently, for three-dimensional landslide-generated waves validated against a physical wave tank [
12]. All three studies find that the two models reproduce the measured responses satisfactorily, while differing in the numerical treatment of the free surface and geometry and in the degree of user control. Sabeti et al. [
12] describe them as representatives of the two principal classes of modeling tool in use. No comparison of this kind has yet been reported for solitary-wave interaction with porous coastal structures, where the two phenomena occur together.
That combination deserves separate treatment, because coastal defenses under extreme long waves are assessed not only for wave attenuation but for their own stability and for the hazard they leave landward [
24,
25]. Among long-wave conditions, the solitary wave has been a standard test case since Synolakis [
26] because it isolates shoaling, run-up and overtopping in repeatable form [
27]. It is not a surrogate for a real tsunami [
28], but a standardized condition for testing robustness. When such a wave meets a porous structure, the external free-surface flow becomes coupled to seepage, inertial and drag resistance and dissipation within the body, and that coupling is governed by coefficients that must be specified rather than computed [
8,
9].
The way model performance is reported must also reflect the fact that a porous coastal structure is judged not by one response but by several. Run-up and overtopping govern the landward hazard and are checked against admissible overtopping limits [
29]. Pressure and the accompanying suction govern the stability of the structure and its armor [
30]. Transmitted and reflected heights govern sheltering, and the flow within the pores governs internal dissipation and the stability of the granular material [
8,
9]. These are different limit states, and a designer is normally concerned with one at a time, so the practical question is whether the prediction of that particular response can be relied upon.
These responses are not determined by the same part of a numerical model. The porous closure parameterizes the flow inside the medium, and so acts on quantities governed by that internal flow. Run-up and overtopping depend in addition on how a thin interface is advected and resolved. Local quantities near the structure depend on how its geometry is represented on the grid. Whether those correspondences hold, and whether two configurations diverge differently from one response to another, can be established only by decomposing the validation result rather than condensing it.
Conventional reporting practice is not well suited to this. Agreement is usually condensed into a single aggregate score, which introduces a further difficulty when two models are compared. If the ranking flips between responses or between spatial zones, differences of opposite sign are averaged together and can offset one another. The statistic may then report the models as indistinguishable, not because they agree but because quantities of an opposite sign have been summed. Deciding whether a difference is real further requires it to be weighed against the uncertainty of the comparison, for which a single score leaves no place. A similar need is identified by Koosheh et al. [
31], who note that characterizing an individual wave rather than mean overtopping remains a challenge for high-fidelity modelling.
One further constraint governs how the comparison can be posed, since the two models are constructed differently. In OpenFOAM, the porous closure and its coefficients, the turbulence closure and the wave theory are each selected by the user, and a body of published practice has accumulated around those selections. In FLOW-3D, the same elements are supplied as one integrated package, and the points at which a user can intervene are deliberately few. These elements cannot be exchanged between the two, so whoever adopts either model adopts its porous closure, interface scheme and geometry treatment together. The two can, therefore, be compared only as complete configurations.
This study, therefore, pursues three aims. The first is to reproduce five hydraulic benchmark experiments with both porousWaveFoam and FLOW-3D, spanning porous infiltration, three-dimensional wave propagation, wave-induced pressure, slope run-up flow and overtopping. The second is to evaluate agreement through complementary error components together with the single quantities that enter a design check, rather than one averaged ranking, and to report the measured correlation structure of that metric set rather than assuming it. The third is to examine whether the relative performance of the two models is universal or reverses with the physical regime, spatial zone and motion phase, and, where it reverses, whether the difference exceeds the uncertainty of the comparison.
A comparison posed in this way does not return a single ranking. For each design quantity, it returns either a ranking that survives the uncertainty budget, or a statement that the two models are interchangeable for that quantity. The comparison also identifies responses in which both models err in the same direction, so that changing the model achieves nothing. Finally, it reports a computational cost whose ordering reverses with problem size.
3. Validation Metrics and Model Validation
This section defines the measures used to compare the two models with the reference experiments and reports the results for the five benchmarks. It then examines the computational cost, the accuracy–cost relationship, and the conditions under which a difference between the two is large enough to act upon.
3.1. Validation Metrics
For the reasons set out in
Section 1, agreement is not condensed here into a single score. The measures used instead follow the error-variance decomposition of Murphy [
41], in which the mean-square error separates into bias, amplitude and correlation contributions, each isolating one way in which a signal can depart from the measurement.
Table 3 lists the resulting set in three groups: the elementary error components, the scalars that enter a design check, and the overall summaries.
Group A separates the elementary ways in which a modeled signal departs from the measurement: a systematic offset, an error in amplitude, a mismatch in waveform shape, and an error in timing. The timing measure is obtained by generalized cross-correlation [
42,
43]. Group B reduces the record to the quantities that enter a design check, in the sense used in verification and validation practice [
44]. These are referred to below as design scalars. Group C holds the overall summaries, among them the Brier-type skill score of Sutherland et al. [
45] and a paired bootstrap over the gauges of an experiment [
46]. The bootstrap describes how much the difference between the two models varies from gauge to gauge. It is not used to test significance, since the gauges of one experiment share the same incident wave and are not independent samples. Where the components are shown together, the Taylor diagram [
47] is used, with the amplitude ratio as the radius and the correlation as the angle, and the overall performance is placed within the qualitative bands established for coastal model evaluation [
48].
Each component is normalized by a physical reference so that cases remain comparable: free-surface quantities by the incident wave height
H, pressure by the hydrostatic scale
, and velocity by the peak measured speed. Timing quantities refer to the duration of the primary response event, and a positive phase lag means that the model lags the measurement. Since the reference records were digitized from published figures, the sampling interval is not negligible relative to that duration, and a cross-correlation resolves the lag only in integer multiples of it [
49]. The lag is, therefore, refined to sub-sample resolution by parabolic interpolation of the correlation peak, as is standard in correlation-based measurement [
50,
51], and lags below one sampling interval are reported as unresolved. The constants that fix the analysis window, the resampling and the lag search are listed in
Table A2, with each expressed as a multiple of a quantity estimated from the measured record itself. The duration ratio and the impulse are obtained by integrating only the positive part of the record, which is appropriate for water level and pressure because the event is a single positive pulse. Slope velocity changes sign within the event, as the flow first runs up the slope and then back down, so no impulse is reported for it. The peak of the uprush and the peak of the downrush are given separately instead, together with the timing of the reversal between them. For pressure, the negative part is integrated as well, since the suction it represents bears on the stability of the structure.
Both models are evaluated against the same digitized reference, whose uncertainty comprises the instrument accuracy and repeatability of the source experiment together with the reproducibility of the digitization. Every conclusion below rests on the paired difference between the two models within a common response and zone. For the signed measures, the peak error and the impulse error, that difference removes the reference exactly, since it reduces to the difference between the two modeled values. For the magnitude measures such as the normalized RMSE, the removal is not exact, but it is close whenever the two models lie on the same side of the measurement, which holds for each of the zone-averaged governing responses compared in
Section 3.5. Absolute error levels are, therefore, reported but not used to rank the two models.
Two contributions remain. The discretization uncertainty does not cancel in the paired difference because the two models use different meshes and geometry representations. The scatter between gauges within a zone indicates whether an apparent difference persists when the sampling location changes. The combined uncertainty of a paired comparison is taken as the quadrature sum of these two. A multivariate extension of that framework, which condenses several correlated quantities into a single metric, has since been standardized [
52]; the comparison here keeps the quantities separate instead because a design check is made on one of them at a time. Following the comparison rule of ASME V&V 20 [
44], a difference is reported as resolvable only when it exceeds that value and as indistinguishable otherwise. Each comparison in the following sections is, therefore, reported together with the uncertainty against which it was judged.
where the total mean-square error separates into an amplitude (bias) term, a variance (amplitude-ratio) term, and a correlation (phase/shape) term. Each term isolates a physically distinct discrepancy mechanism. It should be stated clearly, however, that Equation (16) is an algebraic identity and does not establish statistical independence between the resulting components. Isolating distinct mechanisms does not render the corresponding metrics uncorrelated. The measured rank correlation of the full metric set is, therefore, reported in
Section 4, together with a principal-component analysis quantifying its effective dimensionality, and the justification for the decomposition rests on that measured result and on the frequency with which the ranking of the two configurations reverses between components, not on an assumption of independence. On this basis, the validation metrics are organized into three groups, as summarized in
Table 3: (A) error components, (B) design scalars, and (C) overall summaries.
3.2. Model Validation Results
Five hydraulic experiments were reproduced with both models, chosen so that the governing responses are controlled by different parts of the model: internal porous flow, free-surface propagation, front-face pressure, slope velocity and overtopping. The validation experiments are summarized in
Table 4, and the boundary conditions for Experiment 1 and for the solitary-wave cases (Experiments 2–5) are in
Table 5 and
Table 6.
The porous-resistance coefficients
α and
β required by the porousWaveFoam configuration were taken, for each benchmark, from the values reported for the corresponding medium in the original study. They were checked against the ranges recommended by Jensen et al. [
8,
9] for the relevant pore-Reynolds-number regime. No case-specific tuning was applied in any of the five benchmarks. The values used, together with the mesh and porous-medium properties of each case, are listed in
Table 7.
For Experiments 1 and 3, the grid listed there is the middle member of a three-grid sequence on which the discretization error was assessed following Celik et al. [
53]. Those two assessments are reported in
Appendix B, in
Figure A8 for Experiment 1, and in
Figure A9 and
Table A4 for Experiment 3, and give the value of 0.03 used for the discretization component of the combined uncertainty. The five cases are presented in turn below, beginning with a check that the wave delivered to the structure is the same in both models.
Table 4.
Summary of hydraulic experiments used for model validation.
Table 4.
Summary of hydraulic experiments used for model validation.
| Experiment | Reference | Case Description |
|---|
| Ex-1 | Liu et al. [35] | Porous dam-break flow (glass and rock media) |
| Ex-2 | Lara et al. [54] | Three-dimensional wave interaction with a side-mounted porous caisson |
| Ex-3 | Lara et al. [54] | Three-dimensional wave interaction with a transverse porous caisson |
| Ex-4 | Jensen et al. [55] | Solitary-wave interaction with a porous breakwater slope |
| Ex-5 | Guler et al. [37] | Solitary waves overtopping a rubble-mound breakwater |
Table 5.
Boundary conditions for Experiment 1.
Table 5.
Boundary conditions for Experiment 1.
| Boundary | porousWaveFoam | FLOW-3D |
|---|
| alpha.water | Pressure | Velocity |
|---|
| Atmosphere | inletOutlet | totalPressure | pressureInletOutletVelocity | Pressure (fluid fraction = 0) |
| Wall | zeroGradient | fixedFluxPressure | fixedValue (0 0 0) | Wall |
| Front and back | empty |
| Wave generation | Not applied |
| Wave absorption |
Table 6.
Boundary conditions for Experiments 2 to 5.
Table 6.
Boundary conditions for Experiments 2 to 5.
| Boundary | porousWaveFoam | FLOW-3D |
|---|
| alpha.water | Pressure | Velocity |
|---|
| Atmosphere | inletOutlet | totalPressure | pressureInletOutletVelocity | Pressure (fluid fraction = 0) |
| Inlet | zeroGradient | Solitary wave |
| Outlet | zeroGradient | inletOutlet | Outflow |
| Wall | zeroGradient | fixedFluxPressure | fixedValue (0 0 0) | Wall |
| Wave generation | waves2Foam relaxation zone with Chappelear [39] solitary-wave theory and target velocity imposed through relaxation zone | Built-in solitary-wave boundary |
| Wave absorption | No separate absorption layer; outgoing flow leaves through the outlet boundary | None; outflow boundary |
Table 7.
Mesh and porous-medium properties of the five benchmark configurations. The coefficients α and β apply to porousWaveFoam only.
Table 7.
Mesh and porous-medium properties of the five benchmark configurations. The coefficients α and β apply to porousWaveFoam only.
| Case | Cells, porousWaveFoam | Cells, FLOW-3D | D50 (m) | Porosity n | α/β (porousWaveFoam) |
|---|
| Ex-1 | 20,648 | 2,344,163 a | glass 0.003/rock 0.0159 | glass 0.39/rock 0.49 | 1000/2.0 |
| Ex-2 | 1,553,848 | 1,557,632 | 0.0083 | 0.48 | 500/2.0 |
| Ex-3 | 2,568,000 | 2,480,175 | 0.015 | 0.51 | 1000/3.0 |
| Ex-4 | 1,944,000 | 1,947,180 | body 0.038/plate 0.0182/zone 0.038 | body 0.40/plate 0.41/zone 0.40 | 500/2.0 |
| Ex-5 | 3,547,143 | 3,548,448 | filter 0.033/core 0.015/armor 0.040 | filter 0.35/core 0.30/armor 0.40 | 11.375/0.70; 10.5/0.36; 12.0/0.24 |
3.2.1. Incident Wave in the Absence of the Structure
The two configurations generate the solitary wave from different theories, namely Chappelear [
39] in porousWaveFoam and McCowan [
40] in FLOW-3D, so a difference established at the generation stage would propagate into every subsequent comparison. This was examined in a numerical flume built from the transverse-caisson case, Experiment 3, with the porous structure removed and everything else unchanged. The domain, the mesh, the incident wave and the boundary settings are those listed for that case in
Table 6 and
Table 7. The wave generated by each model is, therefore, compared under identical conditions. Both are compared against the first-order solitary-wave solution of Equations (17) and (18). The pressure records at the six transducers are given in
Figure A7 of
Appendix A.
In these expressions, is the solitary-wave height, is the still-water depth, and are the spatial and temporal coordinates, and denotes the gravitational acceleration.
Both configurations reproduce the theoretical solitary-wave profile at every gauge (
Figure 1). The incident wave height differs by 1.3% on average across the gauges, with a standard deviation of 2.4%, and the cross-correlation between the two records is 0.991 with an amplitude ratio of 0.991 and a normalized RMSE of 0.038. Arrival time was taken as the instant of the first-pass crest at each gauge, and the wave generated by porousWaveFoam arrives 70 ms earlier on average, with a between-gauge scatter of 21 ms. The dynamic pressure agrees to a similar degree. Once the hydrostatic component is removed, the peak values at the six transducer locations differ by 2.7 to 3.5% consistently in the same direction (
Figure 2).
The two models, therefore, deliver the same incident wave to within 1.3% in height, 0.038 in normalized RMSE, and 70 ms in arrival time, and the pressure signal to within 3.5%. These values are the resolution floor of the comparison; a difference of this size between the two models, measured in a case that contains a structure, cannot be attributed to the structure. Differences larger than the floor are interpreted in the following subsections as arising from the interaction with the structure.
3.2.2. Porous Dam-Break Flow (Glass and Rock Media)
To assess model performance for unsteady free-surface flow through porous media, the porous dam-break experiment of Liu et al. [
35] was reproduced for two contrasting media: small spherical glass beads and crushed rock. Because the available data consist of spatial free-surface profiles at discrete snapshots rather than continuous time histories, the comparison was based on the profile-derived error components summarized in
Figure 3. The measured and simulated free-surface profiles for both media are given in
Figure A1 of
Appendix A.
porousWaveFoam reproduces the free-surface profile more closely than FLOW-3D in both media, and the advantage lies almost entirely in the amplitude component. FLOW-3D over-predicts the spread of the profile, its amplitude ratio being 1.10 in both media against 1.04 and 1.06 for porousWaveFoam. The two agree on waveform shape to within 0.002 in correlation for the rock. Because the profiles are spatial snapshots rather than time series, no timing component is available here. The difference between the models is larger in the glass beads, where the flow is more strongly resistance-controlled. The normalized RMSE differs by 0.043 there against 0.017 in the coarser rock.
The compared quantity in this benchmark is a spatial profile rather than a time series. The shift component of the decomposition, therefore, has the dimension of length and can be read directly as the error in the position of the infiltration front. Both models advance the front further than measured over the first part of the infiltration, and FLOW-3D consistently more than porousWaveFoam. In the glass-bead medium, the offset reaches 6.2 cm for FLOW-3D and 4.0 cm for porousWaveFoam at t = 0.8 s. These correspond to 4.5 and 2.9 cell widths, well above the resolution at which the shift can be determined. In the crushed-rock medium, the corresponding maxima are 2.4 cm and 1.3 cm, and by t = 1.6 s, both fall below one cell width. The offsets of the two models converge to within 0.6 cm by t = 2.0 s in both media. Expressed as a length, the shift component, therefore, places the disagreement in the early stage of the infiltration, when the front advances fastest, and shows it to be larger in the finer of the two media. The complete set of values is given in
Table A1 of
Appendix B.
This is the first instance of the conditional behavior seen across the benchmarks. The two models receive the same grain diameter and porosity, and the two media differ only through those two inputs, so the margin between the models here reflects how each converts them into resistance. That margin is smaller for the crushed rock, whose linear resistance is roughly two orders of magnitude below that of the glass beads. In this benchmark, the choice of model, therefore, has the greater effect in the finer medium, where the resistance term carries the larger share of the momentum balance.
3.2.3. Three-Dimensional Wave Interaction with a Side-Mounted Porous Caisson
To evaluate the reproduction of three-dimensional free-surface propagation past a side-mounted porous caisson, the wave-basin experiment of Lara et al. [
54] was reproduced and the free-surface time series at twelve wave gauges were compared using the decomposed error components (
Figure 4). The records at all twelve gauges are given in
Figure A2 of
Appendix A.
Across the twelve gauges, neither model is uniformly superior, and a paired bootstrap over all gauges finds no error component whose mean porousWaveFoam–FLOW-3D difference is separated from zero by more than the resampling interval. For the peak error, the component with the largest mean difference, the twelve-gauge mean is +0.016 with a 95% resampling interval of [−0.001, +0.028] from 10,000 resamples. As set out in
Section 3.1, that interval describes the scatter across the observed gauge set rather than serving as an inferential test. The component-wise decomposition instead shows a zone-dependent reversal. In the open-water gauges, the two models agree closely, FLOW-3D matching the peak amplitude marginally better and carrying essentially zero phase lag. Immediately adjacent to the structure, at WG7 to WG9, the ranking reverses. FLOW-3D develops a positive phase lag of
= +0.134 s on average, and its zero-lag correlation falls to
= 0.955. porousWaveFoam keeps a lag of −0.008 s with
= 0.997 and a lower normalized RMSE, 0.077 against 0.131.
The digitized records in this zone are sampled at 0.079 s on average, so a lag is only meaningful when it exceeds that interval. The FLOW-3D lag is 1.7 times the sampling interval and is, therefore, resolved, whereas the porousWaveFoam lag is an order of magnitude below it and is reported as zero. Six of the twenty-four gauge-model combinations in this experiment return a resolvable lag, and the three FLOW-3D near-structure gauges are among them. What separates the two models near the structure is when the wave arrives, not what it looks like when it does. The shift-optimized shape correlation is 0.997 for both, so the whole of the FLOW-3D correlation deficit is removed by sliding its record 0.134 s earlier. The waveform is reproduced, but too late. Numerical diffusion would not act this way, since it would flatten the crest and lower the shape correlation as well. What the components locate is, therefore, a difference in propagation speed close to the caisson rather than a loss of resolution, and the difference appears only in that zone. FLOW-3D carries no lag in open water.
The practical consequence follows from which quantity a design check uses. Peak elevation is unaffected. Both models over-predict the near-structure crest by a similar margin, 17% for porousWaveFoam and 18% for FLOW-3D, and either may be used for that purpose. A check that depends on when the crest arrives, such as the phasing of overtopping against a water-level condition, would carry the 0.134 s offset of FLOW-3D in this zone. The ranking of the two models in this three-dimensional case is thus a function of both the spatial zone and the quantity asked of it, which a single averaged error would not show.
3.2.4. Three-Dimensional Wave Interaction with a Transverse Porous Caisson
To evaluate the numerical models for three-dimensional wave interaction with a transverse porous caisson, the wave-basin experiment of Lara et al. [
54] was reproduced. Free-surface elevations were compared at multiple wave gauges, and wave-induced pressures were compared at six transducers on the front face of the porous structure. The water-level records are given in
Figure A3 of
Appendix A and the pressure records in
Figure A4. A three-grid convergence assessment was carried out for this case and is reported in
Appendix B.2. Together with Experiment 1, it covers the two ways in which the flow is set in motion in this study. In Experiment 1, the motion originates from an initial water column released at rest. Here, it is introduced through the wave-generation boundary and travels the length of the flume before reaching the structure. The discretization error of a case, therefore, depends on which of the two applies, and one case of each type was assessed. Pressure was chosen for that assessment because the design scalars of this benchmark are derived from it.
Both models reproduce the free-surface elevation and the pressure arrival with broadly comparable skill. On the Taylor diagram of
Figure 5a, the two sets of points fall close together throughout. Averaged over the six transducers, the pressure signal gives a correlation of 0.989 for both models, with amplitude ratios of 1.04 and 1.07. The water level is reproduced with a correlation of 0.987 at the gauges away from the caisson and 0.80 at those beside it. The accuracy of both models, therefore, falls in the same place, where the incident and reflected waves overlap. What the elementary components do not do is separate the two models. At no gauge or transducer does either lead by more than the combined uncertainty.
The design scalars, however, reveal a spatial reversal in the pressure response. The cumulative positive impulse is over-predicted by both models at every front-face transducer, but the model with the larger error changes with the height. The porousWaveFoam over-predicts most strongly at the lower points P1 and P2, by 19.0% against 14.1%, whereas FLOW-3D does so at the upper points P3 to P6, by 17.0% against 13.5%. Neither is uniformly conservative across the face of the structure. The lower-face difference exceeds the combined uncertainty by a factor of 1.6 and the upper-face difference by 1.1, so the reversal between the two zones is resolved by the test of
Section 3.5. The upper-face margin is narrow enough, however, to depend on the discretization uncertainty adopted there. It carries a practical consequence. A designer checking the load on the lower part of the face obtains the more conservative estimate from porousWaveFoam, and one checking the upper part obtains it from FLOW-3D. No single choice of model is conservative over the whole face.
The suction impulse integrates the interval in which the pressure falls below the still-water value, which occurs as the crest passes and the water surface drops back down the face. It measures the outward load that acts on the structure during that interval, and it behaves quite differently from the positive impulse.
The error follows the height of the transducer. At the two lowest points, which stay submerged throughout the event, both models reproduce the suction to within 5%. From P4 upward, the modeled suction falls progressively short of the measurement, by 32 to 41% at P4, by 78 to 89% at P5, and by 95 to 99% at P6. At the top of the face, almost none of the measured outward load is recovered. The transducers that lose the suction are those the free surface crosses as the crest passes. The single exception is P3, where both models over-predict the suction by 65% and 78%. The measured negative area at that transducer is small, so the relative error there is amplified and the value is not read as a distinct behavior. The two models are separated at neither the lower nor the upper face, the difference falling inside the combined uncertainty in both zones (
Section 3.5). The shortfall is, therefore, shared, and changing the model does not remove it. Its extent is set by the position on the face. The suction is reproduced where the transducer stays submerged and is lost where the free surface crosses it. The positive impulse gives no warning of this, since both models reproduce it at the same upper transducers to within 21%, so a validation reported only in that quantity would record the upper face as satisfactory. The limitation is common to both models and confined to the part of the face that emerges during the event, so a suction taken from either model there should be read as a lower bound on the outward load.
3.2.5. Solitary-Wave Interaction with a Porous Breakwater Slope
To validate the reproduction of free-surface run-up and slope-parallel and slope-normal velocities on a porous breakwater slope, the experiment of Jensen et al. [
55] was reproduced. Free-surface elevation at the toe and the slope velocity components were compared using the decomposed error components and the design scalars (
Figure 6). The toe-elevation and slope-velocity records are given in
Figure A5 of
Appendix A.
For the free-surface family, porousWaveFoam reproduces the toe elevation with smaller amplitude and shape errors than FLOW-3D (NRMSE 0.030 vs. 0.059). The velocity family behaves differently, and in a way that matters more for design. The two models share the same directional error. Both models damp the peak slope velocity. On the way up, they under-predict the positive peak. On the way down, they return a peak too weak in magnitude. That is, algebraically higher than the measured negative peak. The signed peak-velocity error, normalized by the peak measured speed of each record, is, therefore, negative in uprush and positive in downrush for both models. At the measurement point 57 mm from the slope surface, it ranges from −17% to −79% in uprush and from +30% to +70% during downrush. Its sign is set by the motion phase rather than by the choice of model, and the same holds for both velocity components. The magnitudes differ between the models and change order with the component. During uprush, porousWaveFoam under-predicts the slope-parallel velocity by 17%, against 61% for FLOW-3D, and the slope-normal velocity by 79% against 70%.
The two measurement distances behave differently. At 57 mm, both models follow the measured signal with zero-lag correlations of 0.71 to 0.94, whereas at 2 mm, the correlation of the slope-normal component falls to 0.09 and 0.20. And no flow-reversal instant can be extracted. Scalars from the 2 mm records are, therefore, reported but not used to rank the models.
Two features of this case bear on model selection. The first is that the free-surface response and the velocity response are not equally well-reproduced. The toe elevation is captured to within 3% in normalized RMSE, whereas the slope velocity is damped by tens of percent at every point. A validation carried out on water level alone would not reveal this. The second is that the velocity error keeps the same sign in both models, so a change of model shifts its magnitude but not its direction, and the damping remains. Since the two configurations differ in their treatment of the air phase and of turbulence (
Table 1), the error is not attributable to either of those elements. What they share is the volume-averaged porous closure and the cell-averaged sampling of velocity, which the present comparison cannot separate. For design use, the practical reading is that a slope velocity taken from either model at this scale should be treated as a lower bound.
3.2.6. Solitary Waves Overtopping a Rubble-Mound Breakwater
To validate the models for overtopping over a rubble-mound breakwater, the experiment of Guler et al. [
37] was reproduced, and the free-surface elevation at seven wave gauges and the velocity at two measurement points were compared using the decomposed error components (
Figure 7). The free-surface and velocity records are given in
Figure A6 of
Appendix A.
The layer-specific resistance coefficients reported for this case by Guler et al. [
37] are given in the Engelund-type closure [
56] rather than the van Gent closure implemented here. The two differ only in the porosity exponent of the linear term, so requiring both to yield the same linear resistance gives
, while the non-linear coefficient transfers unchanged.
Table 7 lists the converted values. They are an order of magnitude smaller than those of the other benchmarks because the source study reports a correspondingly lower resistance for these layers, not because a different closure form is used.
For the water-surface family, WG2 to WG7, the two models are close and mixed rather than uniformly ranked. FLOW-3D reproduces the wave amplitude more faithfully at every gauge, with its lying nearer unity, whereas porousWaveFoam matches the waveform shape slightly better, with the higher shape correlation at five of the six gauges. The normalized RMSE is comparable, so neither model is clearly superior for the incident and reflected a free surface.
The decisive difference appears in the overtopping response itself, measured at the crest gauge above the crown wall, where the two models trade places between design scalars of the same event. The porousWaveFoam reproduces the peak crest depth almost exactly, at −2.3%, but under-predicts the time-integrated crest depth by 31.5%. FLOW-3D under-predicts the peak depth by 11.4% yet matches the same integral to within 0.9%, at the cost of over-predicting the event duration by 23.5% at a 2% threshold. That figure ranges from 26.5% to 32.3% as the threshold varies between 1% and 5%. The velocity comparison is likewise mixed, both models under-predicting the peak but FLOW-3D more severely at the inner point, by 53% against 28%.
The two errors are not independent. The integral is the product of a depth and a duration. The agreement of FLOW-3D, therefore, follows from a lower crest depth spread over a longer event and the shortfall of porousWaveFoam from a correct depth confined to a shorter one. The free-surface records identify the same behavior upstream. The porousWaveFoam damps the wave amplitude more strongly, with its mean amplitude ratio being 0.90 against 0.96, and delivers the crest 0.18 s earlier. The wave that reaches the crown wall in porousWaveFoam is thus a faster and steeper one, which reproduces the instantaneous depth but drains before the measured event has ended.
The choice of model, therefore, follows the governing design quantity. Where an admissible overtopping limit is expressed as a peak depth on the crest, porousWaveFoam is the closer of the two. Where it is expressed as a volume per unit width, FLOW-3D is, once the crest-depth integral has been converted to a volume by a representative crest velocity.
3.3. Computational-Cost Analysis
Beyond predictive accuracy, the choice between the two models also depends on the computational effort each requires to reach a solution. The two models were executed on different machines, whose specifications are listed in
Table A3, so a comparison based on raw wall-clock time alone would reflect the hardware rather than the models. The cost of each run is, therefore, reported in two forms: the raw wall-clock time-to-solution and a hardware-normalized cost. The resource use of a run is first expressed as core hours (CH), defined as
, where
is the elapsed wall-clock time and
the number of cores used. To account for the per-core performance gap between the two hardware generations, a single-thread performance ratio (PR) is defined from the PassMark single-thread rating S as
[
57], with the porousWaveFoam machine taken as the reference (PR = 1). The normalized core-hours (BNCH) are then
. This places the two runs on a common per-core-performance basis; it does not resolve parallel-scaling efficiency or memory-system differences and is, therefore, used as a practical hardware-aware cost indicator rather than a formal HPC benchmark. For every experiment, both models were advanced to the same physical duration, so the reported costs correspond to an equivalent amount of simulated wave action.
Scaling by a single-thread rating corrects along the processor axis only. Finite-volume CFD of the present type performs few arithmetic operations per quantity loaded from memory, so its throughput is governed as much by the sustainable memory bandwidth of the machine as by processor speed. The roofline model classifies this regime as memory bound [
58]. It is also why the STREAM benchmark was introduced, with processor ratings alone having failed to explain the performance differences observed between machines in large-scale ocean modeling [
59]. Both raw and normalized figures are, therefore, reported together with the full hardware specification, following Hoefler and Belli [
60].
The memory configurations of the two machines differ substantially, and in a way that is not captured by the processor rating. The porousWaveFoam machine carries two DDR4-2666 modules on two channels, giving a theoretical peak bandwidth of 42.7 GB/s; the FLOW-3D machine carries eight DDR5 modules on eight channels operating at 5200 MT/s, giving 332.8 GB/s. The aggregate bandwidth of the second machine is thus 7.8 times the first. Per core, however, the ordering reverses: 7.11 GB/s per core against 5.20 GB/s per core, so that, on the axis most relevant to a memory-bound model, the FLOW-3D machine provides 27% less capability per core, not more. Normalizing by memory bandwidth per core would, therefore, give a performance ratio of 0.73 in place of the 1.51 obtained from the single-thread rating. The two axes disagree by a factor of 2.1, and the value appropriate to a memory-bound model lies between them. Differences in normalized cost smaller than this factor are consequently not interpreted here.
Two features of the FLOW-3D runs work against it on the normalized measure. It solves two additional turbulence transport equations at every step, which porousWaveFoam does not, so the cost reported for it is, if anything, conservative. The normalization also uses the nominal core count of 64, whereas the run for Experiment 2 accumulated 49,726 s of processor time against 944 s elapsed, an efficiency of 82% or 52.7 effective cores. The core hours reported for FLOW-3D are, therefore, an upper bound on the resources actually consumed.
Table 8 and
Figure 8 summarize the two cost measures across the five benchmarks. In wall-clock time, FLOW-3D reaches the solution faster on all but the smallest problems, by about 48 times for Experiment 2 and 42 times for Experiment 5, reflecting its use of 64 cores. On the hardware-normalized measure, the ranking is mixed, and
Table 8 reports it under both normalizations so that the effect of that choice is visible. The porousWaveFoam is more economical for the small dam-break cases of Experiment 1, by factors of 14 and 140 under the processor-based normalization and 7 and 68 under the bandwidth-based one. FLOW-3D is more economical for the larger three-dimensional cases of Experiments 2 and 5, by factors of 3.0 and 2.6 under the first normalization and 6.2 and 5.4 under the second. Experiment 1 stands apart because the two configurations do not solve the same problem there. The benchmark is two-dimensional and was run in porousWaveFoam on a one-cell-thick grid of 20,648 cells against a three-dimensional FLOW-3D grid of 2.3 million, the only case in which the cell counts were not matched. Expressed per cell, the advantage disappears. The porousWaveFoam costs 3.4 μBNCH per million cells for the rock medium against 4.2 for FLOW-3D, a difference of a factor of 1.2 rather than 140. The economy of porousWaveFoam on this benchmark, therefore, lies in not having to represent the third dimension at all, which is available whenever the response of interest is two-dimensional.
For the four matched cases, the per-cell cost separates the models along a different line. In Experiments 3 and 4, of 2.6 and 1.9 million cells, the two are within 10% of each other on the processor-based normalization, at 22.2 against 24.4 and 19.8 against 19.2 μBNCH per million cells. In Experiments 2 and 5, porousWaveFoam costs 3 and 2.6 times more, at 48.8 and 52.1 against 16.2 and 19.7. The separation does not follow problem size, since Experiment 3 is larger than Experiment 2. It follows the wall-clock time, which, for the two expensive cases, reaches 12.6 and 30.8 h against 9.5 and 6.4 for the other two. Both runs advance the same physical duration, so the difference is one of time-step count. The fixed Courant limits of the porousWaveFoam setup take more steps through the strongly accelerated flow of the side-mounted caisson and the overtopping event than the automatic limit of FLOW-3D. Neither model is, therefore, uniformly cheaper. The porousWaveFoam is the more economical where a two-dimensional representation suffices, and the two are equivalent per cell in three-dimensional cases without strong local acceleration. FLOW-3D is the more economical where the flow forces a small time step, and it reaches any given solution in far less wall-clock time by virtue of the cores available to it. To this, the licensing terms should be added, since porousWaveFoam carries no license cost and its runs can be replicated on any number of machines, which bears on the resource question independently of the figures above.
3.4. Accuracy–Cost Trade-Off
Accuracy and cost are combined here without imposing a preference between them. The cost is a property of a whole run and cannot be attributed to an individual gauge, whereas the accuracy is resolved by location, so the two are first brought together at a fixed per-run cost.
Table 9 lists the error of each model for every zone of every benchmark alongside the cost of the run that produced it. Within a single benchmark, the more accurate model changes from zone to zone, although the cost does not. In Experiment 2, FLOW-3D is both cheaper and more accurate in open water, while porousWaveFoam is the more accurate near the structure. In Experiment 3, the impulse accuracy reverses between the lower and the upper front face, and in Experiment 5 the overtopping peak favors porousWaveFoam, while the crest-depth integral favors FLOW-3D.
A comparison of the two models on cost and accuracy together, therefore, has to be made for a stated response. Following the work-precision approach standard in numerical-method benchmarking [
61],
Figure 9 places the governing response of each benchmark on a plane whose axes are the ratio of the two costs and the ratio of the two errors. A model Pareto-dominates the other when it is at least as good on both axes [
62], which, on this plane, means that the point falls in the lower-left or upper-right quadrant. The shaded band marks the region within which the cost ratio is smaller than the factor of 2.1 by which the two normalizations of
Section 3.3 disagree. A cost difference of that size cannot be separated from the choice of normalization, so the two models are taken as equally expensive there, and the comparison rests on accuracy alone.
Three outcomes follow. The porousWaveFoam is dominant for both porous dam-break media, being 1.6 to 1.8 times more accurate at a cost 14 to 140 times lower. FLOW-3D is dominant for the crest-depth integral of Experiment 5, where it is 34 times more accurate at 0.38 of the cost. The pressure impulse of Experiment 3 and the uprush velocity of Experiment 4 fall inside the cost band, so FLOW-3D is preferable there on accuracy alone. The remaining two responses are genuine trade-offs. FLOW-3D reaches the near-structure water level of Experiment 2 at 0.33 of the cost and the overtopping peak of Experiment 5 at 0.38, but with 1.7 and 5.0 times the error. The choice there depends on what the additional accuracy is worth.
No point falls in a quadrant that would make one model preferable across the set. The two are separated in opposite directions in different benchmarks and, within Experiments 2, 3 and 5, in different zones of the same benchmark at the same cost. Cost-effectiveness is, therefore, not a property of the model but of the pairing between a model and a target response, and
Table 9 gives that pairing for each of the fourteen zone-level comparisons made here, with the zone-resolved advantage being shown in
Figure 10.
3.5. Why the Responses Are Separated and When a Difference Is Resolvable
The preceding sections report the two models separately for each response, zone and motion phase rather than through one averaged score. The first reason is that no single number represents them. Across the 57 signals for which both models were evaluated, which of the two is the more accurate depends on the metric consulted in 46 cases, or 81%, and in Experiments 3 and 5 at every signal. With nine components, this is what would be expected of two models of comparable overall accuracy, and it is the reason an aggregate score is uninformative here rather than evidence of a systematic dependence in itself. Whether any of these differences is systematic is a separate question, taken up below.
The second is the dimensionality of the metric set. The components are not statistically independent, and the correlation structure was measured rather than assumed. The zero-lag correlation and the normalized RMSE reach a Spearman coefficient of −0.81, the zero-lag and shift-optimized correlations +0.77, and the amplitude ratio and the peak error +0.74. Dependence of this kind does not make the components redundant. Standardizing the metric matrix over the 82 signal–model combinations for which all nine components are defined, five principal components are needed to account for 90% of the variance (
Figure 11). The set, therefore, spans five effective dimensions against the one of an aggregate score, so condensing it discards information that no choice of asingle metric recovers.
Averaging can also remove a difference that is present. The pooled bootstrap of
Section 3.2.3 returns no distinguishable difference for the twelve gauges of Experiment 2, whereas separating the near-structure gauges from the open-water ones does return one because the two zonal differences carry opposite signs and cancel. Reported as an average, the two models would appear equivalent there for a reason that has nothing to do with their agreement.
Each difference is, therefore, referred to the combined uncertainty of
Section 3.1, whose discretization component is taken as 0.03 from the two grid-convergence assessments of
Appendix B. The front position of Experiment 1 lies within 0.7% of its extrapolated value on the grid used, while in Experiment 3 the medium–fine differences have a median of 1.4% and reach 5.6% at the ninetieth percentile. The adopted value, therefore, sits near the upper end of the observed sensitivity. Two comparisons lie close enough to the resulting threshold that a moderately different choice would change them: the upper-face positive impulse at 1.09 times the combined uncertainty and the toe water level of Experiment 4 at 1.00 times.
Table 10 applies that test to the governing response of each benchmark and zone, and
Figure 12 shows the same comparison graphically. Six of the thirteen comparisons exceed the uncertainty, and seven do not. The largest margin belongs to the crest-depth integral of Experiment 5, at ten times the uncertainty. The reversal of the positive pressure impulse across the front face of Experiment 3 is resolved on both faces, at 1.6 and 1.1 times, with the second of these marginally. At the other end, the free-surface elevation of Experiments 3 and 5 and the toe water level of Experiment 4 differ by no more than the uncertainty itself, and the two models are interchangeable for those responses.
The two elements are, therefore, complementary. Without the decomposition, the ranking would be decided by whichever metric happened to be reported, and a zonal reversal would be averaged away. Without the uncertainty test, more than half of the differences that the decomposition exposes would be taken as real when they are not. Neither element on its own would have produced the separation reported in
Table 10.
5. Conclusions
FLOW-3D and porousWaveFoam were compared as completely configured models across the five hydraulic benchmarks listed in
Table 4. Agreement was decomposed into complementary error components and into the quantities that enter a design check, and each difference was weighed against the uncertainty of the comparison.
Earlier direct comparisons of these two models concluded that both reproduce the measured response satisfactorily, and at the level of a benchmark average, the present results agree. What changes at the level of a design check is that neither model is superior across the responses examined. Their relative accuracy reverses with the porous medium, with position relative to the structure, with the phase of the motion, and with the design quantity chosen for a single response. Five principal components are needed to span 90% of the variance of the metric set, and across 57 signals, the more accurate model changes with the metric consulted in 81% of cases. So, an averaged score cannot represent the comparison.
Several of the largest discrepancies are shared rather than distinguishing. The phase-dependent slope-velocity bias, the suction impulse lost over the upper structure face, and the late-time drawdown in the overtopping case are common to both models, and for these responses, a change of model is not a remedy. Identifying them requires the components to be reported separately, since differences of opposite sign cancel when gauges are pooled.
Of the thirteen governing comparisons, six exceed the combined uncertainty, and seven do not.
Table 11 gives the outcome for each response: which model is the closer where the difference is resolved and which responses the two reproduce equally well.
The cost ordering also reverses, but with the size and character of the problem rather than with the response. Per cell, the two are equivalent in the three-dimensional cases without strong local acceleration. The porousWaveFoam is cheaper by one to two orders of magnitude where a two-dimensional representation is admissible and FLOW-3D by about a factor of three where the flow forces a small time step. In wall-clock time, FLOW-3D is faster on all but the smallest problems.
These findings hold within the benchmark configurations tested here rather than as general properties of either model, and the bounds are set out in
Section 4.3. The specific rankings are bounded in that way; the procedure that produced them is not. Within that scope, model selection for wave porous structure problems should be governed by the target design response together with a statement of whether the difference exceeds the uncertainty of the comparison, rather than by any single overall ranking. Future work should extend the framework to random-wave conditions, broaden the grid-convergence assessment to the remaining benchmarks, and isolate the contributions of the porous closure and the geometry representation through dedicated single-variable tests.