Pot times

POT PLANTS THIRSTING FOR POWER

Marijuana grow-ops are proliferating in the suburbs -- and consuming a huge amount of energy.  But new provincial privacy legislation is making it harder for police to go after these grid-guzzlers.

York Region Police had busted the marijuana grow-op flourishing in the basement of the suburban Markham home.  A hydro crew had dismantled the spaghetti strands of illegal wiring.  A safety inspector had been through, too.  And then .  .  .

"When we reconnected the power, the same guys are standing there, leaning against their BMWs, watching us, laughing," says Rick Lapp, manager of metering at PowerStream, the utility company that serves Markham, Richmond Hill and Vaughan.  "But we have to reconnect them.  We had no choice."

Grow-ops are giving new meaning to the term "leafy suburbs." As the rest of Canada pays desultory attention to the debate over legalizing marijuana, grow-ops have become a growth industry.  And while conscientious ratepayers try to conserve energy use during Toronto's prolonged heat wave, grow-ops blithely drain huge amounts of electricity -- about five to 10 times as much as the average home.

But there's not much the utility companies can do to stop them.  Until recently, hydro suppliers were the biggest allies police forces had in their battle against grow-ops, particularly in Markham and the surrounding area, where York Region police have launched aggressive campaigns against them.  Between 2002 and 2004, they shut down a total of 577 in Markham, Richmond Hill and Vaughan.

But new privacy legislation implemented last year now prevents utility companies from tipping off police about grow-ops, provided they pay their bills.  And increasingly, more and more of them are.

"Back in 2002 and 2003 we were hitting them so hard, the police couldn't keep up with us," said Mr.  Lapp.  Now, utility companies say they're hamstrung because the pot growers have changed their modus operandi.

Until last year, grow-op gangs mostly stole power.  First, they'd set up shop in a home that typically had three key elements: an unfinished basement, a fireplace and an attached garage.  ( An unfinished basement means it's easier to jerry-rig wiring for 1,000-watt lights -- most operations use an average of 20 -- and set up the hydroponic system.  Fireplaces vent the condensation, humidity and the plant's unique pungency.  Attached garages conceal identities and cargo.  )

Then they'd drill through those unfinished basement walls to hook up a meter bypass.  It's not that they were reluctant to pay their electrical bills.  They just didn't want hydro companies to tip off the police.

Suburban hydro companies began noticing an alarming discrepancy between revenue and actual power consumption about five years ago.  The Electricity Distributors Association, the industry group, estimated the loss in Ontario at nearly $200-million annually.

The penny dropped in late 2001 when police in York region set up a meeting with various utilities.  "That's when we started taking notice," says Mr.  Lapp, the hydro manager, who sent crews to randomly audit transformers that fed, on average, 10 homes.  If they found an imbalance between billing and actual consumption, they'd clamp on a data reader that would identify the houses responsible.  Once they'd identified it, they'd shut off its power and inform the police -- or arrive at the door with an officer.

But in 2004, new provincial privacy legislation prevented power companies from tipping off police, as long as the customer paid the bill.  "The grow-ops got smart," says Eric Fagan, a spokesman for PowerStream Inc., the newly amalgamated utility for Markham, Vaughan and Richmond Hill.  "Once they found out we couldn't divulge information unless theft of power was involved, it flipped almost overnight.  They started running it through the meter."

A second blow came last year.  The Ontario Energy Board, which regulates hydro companies, ruled that homeowners aren't responsible for tenants' electricity bills and utility companies can't slap a lien on the house.  That removed the last incentive for utility companies to assist police.

This month, PowerStream participated in a four-night blitz aimed at identifying high-consumption addresses only because the police asked them to.  "It probably cost $40,000 for us, including overtime and benefits," said Mr.  Lapp.  "We can't recover the money, so it costs us dearly to do this.  Based on this year, 85 per cent [of grow-ops] are through the meter."

To date this year, including the blitz, PowerStream has disconnected only 31 homes, down from a 2002 high of 301.

Abandoned by their biggest ally, the police are struggling.  Most forces lack the right stuff, ethnically speaking.  Police say that Asian gangs are largely responsible for grow-ops in the GTA, but Asian officers are still relatively rare.  York Region's force of 14,000, for instance, has one Chinese-speaking officer in its intelligence unit - --and no Vietnamese speakers, according to Detective Don Cardwell of York Region's drug squad.  Although it has recruited Asian officers in recent years, many aren't yet seasoned enough to join the drug squad.

So police must resort to old-fashioned, labour-intensive surveillance to shut down grow-ops, which hydro companies estimate to number between 10,000 and 15,000 in the GTA.  But authorities know only how many they catch, not how many there actually are.  Some guess the ratio at 10 to 1.

"Because Markham is predominantly an Asian community and grow-ops are run by Chinese and Vietnamese, it's good cover," says Detective Cardwell.  "The people we're arresting are overwhelmingly Asian."

Citing new privacy legislation, hydro companies refuse to provide any street names or residents' names where power has been cut.  But a source with access to theft-of-power documents showed this reporter lists in which virtually 100 per cent of the customers' names were Vietnamese, mainland Chinese or of Hong Kong origin.  The addresses were predominantly quiet crescents and cul-de-sacs in the northern suburbs.

Because Markham and its neighbours have been so aggressive in shutting grow-ops down, authorities believe they have ended up shifting them to the rest of Toronto.  "It's very frustrating," says Detective Cardwell.  "We've been successful in York, but we're displacing the problem."

"It's the GTA and beyond, to Kitchener and London to the west, and Kingston to the east.  It's pretty much across the entire 401 corridor," says Charlie Macaluso, president and CEO of the Electricity Distributors Association.  "But they like the suburbs because the houses are bigger and they blend right in."

The telltale signs

Wondering if you're living next to a grow-op? Here are a few signs to watch for.

Drapes are always drawn.

Condensation on windows.

People come and go through the garage.

No garbage on pick-up day.

In summer, the grass isn't cut.

In winter, snow melts on the roof.

The electrical meter is spinning way faster than yours.

The telltale smell of marijuana is vented through the chimney.

Powering down grow-ops

Police in the Markham area have worked aggressively with local utility companies to shut down grow-ops.  But with new privacy legislation restricting the information utilities can share, the number of busts is declining.

Shut down: Grow-op busts for 2002-2004

Markham

2002: 194

2003: 77

2004: 53

Vaughan

2002: 32

2003: 103

2004: 23

Richmond Hill

2002: 75

2003: 16

2004: 23