When I first catch up with Bio-Combustible International (BCI) in January 2009, the company is planning to start construction of a switchgrass pelletizing plant in St. Armand, Quebec, beginning in March 2009.
There’s a buzz in the air because BCI has just hooked up with a yet-to-be-announced partner who can pony up some money.
But when I check back with BCI president Ingrid Marini that March, the construction date has been pushed back, and so has the announcement of the partner. Then, in June of that year, I learn there has been a new three-month delay. It seems the provincial agency charged with protecting agricultural land has decided a switchgrass pelletizing facility is inconsistent with agricultural land use.
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Now building is slated to start in the summer of 2009, this time in nearby Cowansville.
When I call Marini for an update in July 2009, the goal is to have the plant up and running by the winter. And then when we talk in December 2009, construction is slated for the summer of 2010, now in the town of Bedford.
I don’t ask which month. It seems like a moving target.
If Marini is jaded by the delays, she certainly doesn’t let on. “We strongly believe in what we’re doing,” she asserts. When I wonder aloud about her degree of patience, she laughs, and says, “Extremely patient,” drawing out the word extremely for a couple seconds.
She has seen switchgrass from the other side, as a farmer, and her patience is rooted in what she has seen.
Making it a business
“My background is farming,” says Marini when I ask how she ended up in the switchgrass business. In her family, she says, farming is treated as a business. Her family came to Canada from Switzerland in the 1950s, and since then the family farm has grown to include a 600-milking-head dairy herd, 500 head of beef, and 3,000 acres of cereals.
“We were one of the first — if not the first — privately owned incorporated farms in Canada,” Marini says.
Marini says an interest in new technology and entrepreneurial projects runs in the family. “My family has always been very ahead of their time when it comes to different types of research, production, and environmentally friendly techniques,” she says, as she talks about biogas electricity generation, which they began in 1982.
Marini, with a background in alternative medicine, says she’s no stranger to research and analysis. That turned out to be handy, because when she and her former husband, Luc Marchessault, bought a farm, they ruled out traditional crops. They didn’t have deep pockets for inputs or equipment, nor did they have especially good land.
So they began investigating low-input crops suited to marginal lands. That’s when they learned about the use of switchgrass, willow, and poplar as biofuels. “Switchgrass was something that really got my attention because it is easy to plant and harvest,” explains Marini. The fact that it also makes a high-quality biofuel clinched her decision.
Along with the ease of production
and use as a biofuel, she saw another feature: a way to change the farm balance sheet. Not only could producers sell switchgrass for use as a biofuel, she thought. Maybe those same pellets could power the farm, giving farmers control of fuel input costs.
While willow or poplar can also be used to produce biofuel pellets, Marini saw a major hurdle with these crops. “You’re talking about planting a tree,” she says, adding, “Farmers don’t see it as planting a crop — they see it as putting into forestry lands their families fought like crazy to keep in agricultural production.” Switchgrass, on the other hand, is a less drastic departure from conventional practices. “It still is farming,” she says.
Starting Bio-Combustible
Marini started crunching numbers on what it would take to make money with switchgrass — and became very intrigued. “Eventually somebody would open the door,” she was convinced. “I said, ‘Why can’t that person be us?’ We’ve got experience in business, we’ve got the perseverance, we’ve got the background, we’ve got the time — not necessarily the money — but we have everything else.”
“Once we started sitting down and really started putting this together, I spent a good two years, full time, analyzing our research, building our business plan, crunching the numbers, working with accountants, research groups, engineers — really building a team that we were comfortable with, and getting the best expertise we could get,” says Marini. The result was the launch of BCI in 2007.
Marini uses the chicken and egg analogy to describe the challenge of switchgrass. It’s tough to get farmers to plant a perennial crop when there’s no established market such as a pelletizing plant to buy it. But it’s equally tough to build momentum for a plant when there’s not much production.
So incubating the industry means lots of talking. I can tell Marini loves this part of her job. When I hit her with the right question, she takes off at a mile a minute, faster than I can jot down notes.
Marini works with farm groups as well as provincial and federal ministries of agriculture. “I did a lot of communication campaigns through the Ministry of Agriculture here in Quebec,” says Marini. Switchgrass can be planted along watercourses, so Marini works with extension agents to promote this use. It’s gaining momentum, she says, pointing out that there are already 2,000 acres of switchgrass in cultivation in Quebec.
Along with creating an external market for pellets, she envisages an internal one. “Often in agriculture we are being tapped on our heads by the middleman,” she says, adding, “If the middleman is actually the beginning man and the end-user, all the better.” For this reason, the plant will be large enough to serve growers within a 200-kilometre radius, not much beyond that.
It is part of a closed-loop business model in which BCI advises farmers on the acreage of switchgrass required to heat their operations, sells the seed, buys the harvested switchgrass, pelletizes it, and then sells the pellets back to farmers. “It’s energy independence,” says Marini.
More than pellets
Marini is quick to point out that BCI is more than just seed sales and the planned pelletizing plant. She says the company has already built a reputation in North America for progressing as far as it has.
That reputation, she says, is the basis of the brand she is building.
Branding, she believes, is the ticket to growth. While the Bedford plant is now slated for 2010, BCI is in discussions with a group that wants to construct a plant farther east in the province. “What we bring is the expertise and the equipment,” says Marini, who likens BCI support to a turnkey opportunity for investors, saving the considerable time and research required to construct a pelletizing plant. In our initial discussions, Marini tells me such additional plants will operate on a franchise model, but later describes it as a division.
“It’s negotiable,” says Marini when I press the distinction between franchise and division. The key thing, she points out, is that BCI can bring expertise and distribution channels to such partners. Helping to obtain financing, she says, will also be a big part of the offer. “Once we have the proof of the actual capacity to generate funds and the profitability of the actual factory it will be easier for the subsequent factories.” She even sees the possibility of helping with training and human resources. At this point, it is a fluid model.
Spreading the word
Asked what it has taken to come this far, Marini says, “Communication… mainly it is a lot of communication.” That communication must be backed by knowledge, she says. “You have to be extremely well informed before you even bother trying to make a move. And you have to make sure you have the answers to the questions because when they ask the questions and you don’t have the answers they don’t take you seriously,” she says.
Along with communication, she says, is knowing your limits. “The best business decision you can make is actually realizing what you’re not good at and letting somebody who is good at it do it,” she says.
Marini says the biggest challenge has been getting the money necessary to put the factory together. Because BCI is a new business in an undeveloped industry, lenders have no track record on which to base decisions.
On the horizon
Looking ahead, Marini says, “I can see a potential for several hundred thousand tonnes of production a year in Quebec.” While her niche is switchgrass, she predicts other biomass crops and bioresidues will grow in importance too. But she thinks switchgrass will pave the way. “What this switchgrass wave is going to do is open the door for many other opportunities in agriculture,” she says, adding, “I see switchgrass pellets being a big door in farming — a huge turning point.”
Marini no longer farms. BCI and her six-year-old son Jeremy and nine-year-old daughter Alexia keep her busy enough — though she helps milk on the family farm occasionally.
The BCI team is still small. Including contract engineers and the board of directors, says Marini, there are six people. Right now, they’re waiting for the provincial government to back some loans, something it won’t do until it completes its own studies. Marini sighs as she says that these studies were already done at a university. “We have our factory without the equipment,” she says, explaining that the building, in an industrial complex specializing in green businesses, is owned by one of the investors and is ready to go.
Marini feels patient. “It really teaches you that if you believe in something you’ve got to keep pushing and pushing and pushing and eventually it will all be worthwhile.” CG
Spreading the word
Asked what it has taken to come this far, Marini says, “Communication… mainly it is a lot of communication.” That communication must be backed by knowledge, she says. “You have to be extremely well informed before you even bother trying to make a move. And you have to make sure you have the answers to the questions because when they ask the questions and you don’t have the answers they don’t take you seriously,” she says.
Along with communication, she says, is knowing your limits. “The best business decision you can make is actually realizing what you’re not good at and letting somebody who is good at it do it,” she says.
Marini says the biggest challenge has been getting the money necessary to put the factory together. Because BCI is a new business in an undeveloped industry, lenders have no track record on which to base decisions.
On the horizon
Looking ahead, Marini says, “I can see a potential for several hundred thousand tonnes of production a year in Quebec.” While her niche is switchgrass, she predicts other biomass crops and bioresidues will grow in importance too. But she thinks switchgrass will pave the way. “What this switchgrass wave is going to do is open the door for many other opportunities in agriculture,” she says, adding, “I see switchgrass pellets being a big door in farming — a huge turning point.”
Marini no longer farms. BCI and her six-year-old son Jeremy and nine-year-old daughter Alexia keep her busy enough — though she helps milk on the family farm occasionally.
The BCI team is still small. Including contract engineers and the board of directors, says Marini, there are six people. Right now, they’re waiting for the provincial government to back some loans, something it won’t do until it completes its own studies. Marini sighs as she says that these studies were already done at a university. “We have our factory without the equipment,” she says, explaining that the building, in an industrial complex specializing in green businesses, is owned by one of the investors and is ready to go.
Marini feels patient. “It really teaches you that if you believe in something you’ve got to keep pushing and pushing and pushing and eventually it will all be worthwhile.” CG
