CO2 Wildcatters
Blue Source, a Utah company run by two Evangelical Christians, is
on a mission to save the planet from global warming and get rich
doing it.
By Lisa Kassenaar
Bloomberg Markets December 2007
Bill Townsend, a one-time Texas oilman, gazes up at a dark-red
smokestack jutting from the cracked clay of southern Colorado and
shakes his head. The chimney is connected to a small plant that
processes natural gas from the surrounding plains. About 25
percent of the gas is methane, which is separated out and sold to
Colorado Interstate Gas Co. Most of the rest is carbon dioxide,
which, on this August morning, climbs the stack and pours into the
cobalt-blue sky.
This plant, the brainchild of Townsend and his partner, Greg
Spencer, is ready to sell its CO2, a major cause of global
warming. Yet $7 million in new equipment to ship the gas sits idle
because oil company BP Plc has yet to open part of a 400-mile
(644-kilometer) pipeline that will take it to West Texas. There,
Townsend and Spencer's plan is to bury the CO2 in aging oil wells.
"All our money now is going up that pipe," Townsend says.
Townsend and Spencer, who met in a Utah Bible study group in 1985,
are wildcatters of the CO2 era. Like American oil prospectors of a
century ago, they comb the country for environmental projects
that, one day, may gush profit. The two Christian capitalists say
they've found their mission: They help companies cut greenhouse
gas emissions and then take a cut of the profit. They've signed
contracts with more than a dozen companies giving them a share of
earnings when captured emissions, mostly CO2, sell in the
fledgling U.S. carbon trading market. In that market, greenhouse
gases that have been diverted from the atmosphere are packaged as
pollution credits, known in the U.S. as "offsets," and are bought
or sold by the metric ton.
Since 2001, Townsend and Spencer's company, Salt Lake City-based
Blue Source LLC, has quietly amassed the largest collection of
offsets in the country, about 270 million metric tons. They have
projects in 45 states, including efforts to bury CO2 from power
plants, capture methane from rotting pig waste and mountains of
garbage and curb pollution from trucks by shifting cargo to
railroads. "There's a biblical mandate to care for the planet that
we have failed, as a culture and as followers of Christ, to do
effectively," Spencer, 50, says. "This opportunity is a privilege.
The success is a blessing."
Offsets trade in the U.S. even though President George W. Bush in
2001 pulled the country out of the Kyoto Protocol, a climate
agreement that creates a cap-and-trade program to reduce global
carbon emissions. In cap and trade, governments allow polluting
companies a set level of annual emissions. Companies then may buy
offset credits--representing tons of emissions that haven't gone
into the atmosphere--to atone for any additional pollution. U.S.
companies, though not burdened by federally mandated caps, trade
pollution credits to meet their own environmental goals, according
to EcoSystem Marketplace, a Washington-based research group. The
voluntary market grew 200 percent in 2006 to about $91 million,
the group says. As public concern about climate change ramps up,
the U.S. Congress is considering 12 bills proposing a federally
regulated cap-and-trade system.
Blue Source, which both builds physical infrastructure to create
offsets and sells them to other companies, marks a new wave of
U.S. carbon entrepreneurship. The big money is already moving in:
Blackstone Group LP's advisory unit signed Blue Source as one of
its smallest clients in April 2006, the day after hearing Townsend
and Spencer's story. "Bill and Greg are the real deal," says Erik
Katz, senior managing director at the New York-based firm. "Blue
Source is well positioned to be a key architect in the development
of the carbon highway. They have been able to thread the needle
between financial gain and social conscience."
Katz hooked up Blue Source with First Reserve Corp., the world's
biggest energy-focused private equity firm, which acquired 50
percent of the company for an undisclosed sum in September 2006.
As part of the agreement, First Reserve will make up to $1 billion
available to Blue Source for new projects. Already, Tyson Foods
Inc., the biggest U.S. meat and poultry processor, and trucker
J.B. Hunt Transport Services Inc. are on Blue Source's client
list. As of October, forward sales contracts were up 350 percent
from a year earlier, and profit for 2007 will be about $5 million,
Spencer says. "We feel we have a lead on how this is going to be
done," Townsend says. "The carbon economy is going to happen on a
grand scale."
Blue Source's offsets exist as numbers on a computer screen, much
like money looks in a bank account. About 45 million metric tons
are on registries such as Washington-based Environmental Resources
Trust Inc., a nonprofit that lists credits from more than 20
sources, including News Corp. and Nike Inc. The rest are managed
out of Blue Source's office in a Salt Lake City business park with
little more than a spreadsheet identifying offsets by date and
category: energy and power, transportation, agriculture. Offset
verification, which confirms that an activity avoided pollution,
is typically shown with an engineering report.
Customers who come to Blue Source usually sign up to buy groups of
credits over time, Spencer says, and Blue Source's supply
agreements guarantee that it will have new offsets flowing in
until 2022. Buyers include New York-based securities firm Cantor
Fitzgerald LP and New Orleans-based Entergy Corp., the second-
biggest U.S. operator of nuclear power plants. One large financial
services firm that phoned Blue Source in early October wants to
secure prices now for offsets to be delivered after 2012, Spencer
says. Blue Source now usually sells its offsets for $4-$6 a ton.
That price could shoot to $30 or more, in line with trading in
Europe's government-regulated market, if Washington caps U.S.
emissions, says Jon Anda, a former Morgan Stanley vice chairman
who heads the Environmental Markets Network for New York-based
Environmental Defense. "It'll be like lighting a match to
methane," says Anda, who, as a banker, worked on Google Inc.'s
initial public offering. "The dollars invested now will go to the
moon."
In Washington, more Republicans now recognize climate change as an
issue in the 2008 race for the White House, says Blythe Masters,
head of JPMorgan Chase & Co.'s global commodities group. She
testified to a Senate committee on the subject in July. California
and 11 Northeast states are discussing their own cap-and-trade
programs. Charlotte, North Carolina-based Duke Energy Corp. and
San Francisco-based PG&E Corp., two of the biggest U.S. utilities,
have said they want a plan too. "The biggest emitters are holding
up business decisions waiting to see what the rules are going to
be," Anda, 50, says. "They want something soon."
For Blue Source, the gamble is huge. More than half of its banked
offsets stem from reducing CO2 in the air by burying it
underground, a storage system called geologic carbon
sequestration. The process is not currently a source of tradable
offsets under the Kyoto Protocol. In addition, Blue Source has
been collecting credits for six years, and buyers are more
interested in pollution credits that represent recent saved
emissions, Townsend says. That's because verification rules are
constantly evolving. Also, creators of all manner of carbon
credits in the U.S. are at the mercy of lawmakers in Washington,
who'll decide what constitutes a tradable offset. "If only half
our offsets end up qualifying, it would be a disappointment,"
Spencer says. "But we're positioned to do well unless offsets
aren't allowed at all."
Investment banks, including Goldman Sachs Group Inc. and Merrill
Lynch & Co., are already adding traders and ?designing securities
to sell in what they call the "pre-compliance" market, meaning
trading before regulations are passed. Credit Suisse, the second-
biggest Swiss bank, is so sure the global carbon market, now
centered in London, will include the U.S. that it located its main
trading desk in New York, says Paul Ezekiel, a managing director
who runs the carbon trading operation. "People see the possibility
of profit and of enormous risk," JPMorgan Chase's Masters says.
She spends about 25 percent of her time on building the firm's
environment-related businesses. "The most dangerous position to be
in is one of ignorance," she says.
Blue Source was once almost alone in the field. Now, competition
is moving in. Credit Suisse in June bought 10 percent of Dublin-
based Eco Securities Group Plc, which is working on more than 400
projects around the world to create offsets. Some 20 of its staff
are now focused on the U.S., up from none a year ago, U.S. country
director Eron Bloomgarden says. In January, Morgan Stanley bought
38 percent of Miami-based MGM International, which has offset
projects in China, Mexico and South America and is also
accumulating credits in the U.S.
Private equity firms, hedge funds and banks have billions of
dollars earmarked for energy projects that may generate tradable
offset credits. They're investing in solar and wind power, ethanol
production and plants that capture methane. In March, First
Reserve raised a $7.8 billion fund, of which about 10 percent will
go to alternative energy, says Glenn Payne, who oversees those
deals for the Greenwich, Connecticut-based company.
Payne helped negotiate First Reserve's Blue Source purchase, which
left Townsend, the chief executive officer, and Spencer, the
president, with 25 percent each. "The green has George Washington
on it," Payne says. The timing looks even better than it did in
2006, says Payne, an Australian who formerly worked at McKinsey &
Co. "We thought something would shake free in Washington in the
middle of the next decade, but the discussion has started
already."
In Colorado, Blue Source is working with Manzano LLC, a gas
exploration company based in Roswell, New Mexico. Mike Hanagan, a
co-owner of Manzano, met Townsend at an oil industry conference in
Midland, Texas, in 2003, when he was designing his facility.
"Bill's a very big-picture kind of guy," Hanagan says. "They kept
pushing that the big picture was greenhouse gas emissions
credits."
Hanagan was persuaded to spend an extra 30 percent on the plant,
which cost about $35 million. The additional $7 million bought a
CO2 compressor and 16 miles of pipeline to funnel his CO2 into a
network that goes to Denver City, Texas. Hanagan's CO2 will be
used by oil companies to flush thick, sticky oil out of older
wells, and then it will remain underground. Blue Source consulted
on the engineering and lined up sales contracts for both the CO2
and the offsets.
On a midsummer Tuesday, Townsend and Spencer fly in and greet
Hanagan on the runway of a ?broken concrete airstrip outside La
Veta, Colorado, a town of 924 people. In the distance lie the
Spanish Peaks, landmarks of the Southwest that Native Americans
call Wahatoya, or "breasts of the Earth." The three hop into a
white pickup truck and drive to Hanagan's plant, about three miles
away.
Fourteen months after Hanagan's facility was finished, CO2 still
spills into the air. Manzano and Blue Source have been calling
everyone they know at BP to try to get the gas flowing. The
London-based oil company has been slow to respond. Says Spencer,
waving at the chimney, "If you believe in the science of climate
change, it's hard to look at that and have it not make you sick."
One day earlier, in 92-degree-Fahrenheit (33-degree?Celsius) heat,
Townsend and Spencer drive 20 minutes into a canyon north of their
Salt Lake City office for lunch on the balcony of the Silver Fork
Lodge, a 60-year-old log hotel decorated with old snowshoes and
stuffed black bears. On the way, they point out sheer Rocky
Mountain cliffs they've climbed over the years with their adult
children. At the table, they both order beef brisket and Coca-
Cola. Then they tell their tale. They talk for 3 hours, sometimes
finishing each other's sentences.
Townsend, 53, grew up in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His father worked
for Ethyl Corp., a gasoline additives company, and read the Bible
every day, Townsend says. At 18, Townsend headed to Purdue
University in West Lafayette, Indiana, and earned bachelor's
degrees in microbiology and mechanical engineering. He met his
future wife, Andrea, at Purdue. All three of their children, now
aged 29, 27 and 23, are also Purdue grads.
In 1978, Townsend joined Houston-based Conoco Inc. and rose to
manage the company's Gulf Coast crude oil and liquid products
pipeline systems. Seven years later, at age 31, he joined the
senior management of Petro Source Co., a crude-oil blending
company with $70 million in annual sales, and moved his family to
Salt Lake City. Among his first tasks was building Petro Source's
business in refined oil products. He laughs now about an early
project selling grass-scented green asphalt to Rocky Mountain golf
clubs.
As Petro Source added oil refining and transportation to its
repertoire over a dozen years, sales rose to more than $1 billion,
Townsend says. In 1995, he took on the company's CO2 ?division,
pushing to spend $17.6 million on an 82-mile pipeline to carry
carbon dioxide from four natural gas plants near Val Verde, Texas,
to Denver City, the main CO2 gathering center for the U.S.
domestic oil industry.
Townsend wasn't looking to create offsets when he initiated the
Val Verde project, he says, although he did consider the
environmental gain in reusing the CO2. His long experience in the
petroleum business had taught him that one of the few commercial
uses of CO2, the bête noire of climate change, was right in front
of him. For three decades, the biggest oil companies operating in
Texas, including Exxon Mobil Corp., had been tapping the ground
and building pipelines to gather CO2 from geologic formations.
They shoot the gas deep into aging wells, where it adheres to
trapped oil, lowers its viscosity and helps flush it out in a
process called enhanced oil recovery, or EOR. EOR could help
recover 240 billion barrels of U.S. oil left in the ground by
conventional drilling, according to the U.S. Energy Department.
Kim Gerard, an oil industry engineer, was working in Chicago when
Townsend phoned in 1997 for help with the Val Verde pipeline. They
had been colleagues at Conoco (now ConocoPhillips), where he was a
fast-rising star, she says. She quit her job and moved to Midland,
Texas, to work for him. "In this industry, you have to make huge
leaps of faith," says Gerard, who talks with a Texas twang and
wears oversized belt buckles engraved with horses and bulls.
Midland, now at the center of the U.S. oil industry, was a sleepy
West Texas rail town until May 1923, when an oil gusher blew 70
miles away. Midland turned out to be in the heart of the Permian
Basin, which contains 22 percent of U.S. oil reserves. Former
President George H.W. Bush worked in the oil business in Midland,
and his son George W., the current president, grew up there, as
did his wife Laura.
Gerard recalls a late night in a Midland hotel conference room in
December 1998 with Townsend and Steve Melzer, an oil industry CO2
consultant. They talked about how the Earth was heating up because
of carbon dioxide. "At the time, there were companies that said
climate change was bull," Gerard says. "We thought we could just
capture this stuff and actually make money off capturing it. It
was one of those times when you start discussing something and the
juices start flowing, and you reach a point where you go, 'This
thing could become huge.' It went on and on."
The Val Verde pipeline was the U.S. oil industry's first system
using so-called anthropogenic, or man-made, carbon dioxide, for
EOR. Buyers were wary at first because the supply was potentially
inconsistent, Townsend says. His first sale was to Exxon at a 20
percent discount to the market. "We built out $13 million of the
$17 million project before we had a physical CO2 sale," he says.
"We were way out on a limb with the investment and had absolutely
no flow through the pipeline. It was a very white-knuckle time."
Concerned about revenue, Townsend took the project further. He
knew that the offset market was developing and had talked about it
with Carlton Bartels, a managing director at Cantor Fitzgerald's
environmental brokerage unit. The Kyoto Protocol was gathering
signatures, and Europe was working on developing a cap-and-trade
market. Townsend reckoned he could earn pollution credits because
his pipeline kept CO2 from flying into the atmosphere. At the
time, no standards or contracts existed for carbon capture and
storage offsets, he says.
After a year of meetings, Townsend and Bartels secured a deal to
sell 1 million tons of offsets from Val Verde to Ontario Power
Generation Inc., a Canadian public utility. "We were inventing as
we went along," Townsend says. "It was exciting and scary."
In November 2000, the two men announced their Ontario trades at a
United Nations conference on climate change in The Hague. Townsend
expected the crowd of environmentalists to cheer, he says.
Instead, hecklers were so noisy that some were escorted out. "We
got booed," Townsend says. "People were still thinking that
selling offsets was just about moving money around. Europe still
wasn't sold on carbon trading at that point."
As Petro Source grew, Townsend became increasingly active in Salt
Lake City's Christian community. He and Spencer belong to the
Evangelical Free Church, which sees the Bible as the inspired,
final word of God. Their church connections forged their
friendship. They raised $2 million together for Salt Lake's
Intermountain Christian School, an elementary school attended by
Spencer's two sons. Townsend was chairman of Life@Work Companies,
a group advising Christians on bringing their faith into the
workplace. Spencer served as a legal and financial adviser to the
board.
Townsend is now on the board of K2 The Church, a Salt Lake City-
based congregation founded in 2002 and named for the world's
second-highest mountain, in the Himalayas. K2 attracts outdoorsy
congregants with a rock-climbing wall, pool tables and a jeans-
wearing pastor who podcasts his sermons. Spencer belongs to the
Mountain Life Evangelical Church in Park City, Utah, the ski town
31 miles from Salt Lake City that hosted the 2002 Winter Olympics'
giant slalom competition.
Spencer moved to Utah from Colorado as a college student because
he loved skiing in the powdery snow, he says. At the University of
Utah, he earned a bachelor's degree in environmental science and a
law degree. In 1983, he joined American Stores Co., a food and
drug retailer; 10 years later, he joined its mergers and
acquisitions team. In 1999, he took part in selling American
Stores to rival Albertsons Inc. in an $8.7 billion deal. Then he
was let go, along with other senior managers.
Spencer doesn't call himself an environmentalist. "You don't have
to be either an environmentalist or a capitalist now," he says.
"There's a new concept of sustainability." Americans should be
able to drive SUVs and use air conditioners, he says, if they are
willing to pay for it, including accounting for the pollution they
create.
While Townsend brought CO2 experience to Blue Source, Spencer
brought a relentless ability to network. Shortly after founding
the company in 2001, he called Steve Graves, an Arkansan who led
Life@Work, to help land a meeting at J.B. Hunt, a Lowell,
Arkansas-based transportation company with 12,000 truckers on
American highways.
In the corner office of John Roberts, a J.B. Hunt division
president, Townsend and Spencer made their pitch: They would help
reduce the trucker's carbon emissions and then pay to verify and
market offset credits they created. When the offsets were sold,
they would get a percentage of the profit. "John was curious,"
Spencer says. "But he was also thinking, 'Why are you in my office
talking about a market that doesn't yet exist?'" It took 18 months
to sign a contract, Spencer says. J.B. Hunt signed on partly
because the risk to the company was so low, he adds. "They had
nothing to lose," he says.
Blue Source began looking at the company's use of trains, which
emit only a third the carbon of trucks. By shifting long-haul
shipping to rail, J.B. Hunt soon saw an environmental benefit,
says Gary Whicker, a senior vice president in charge of
engineering. Blue Source also came up with ideas for restructuring
so-called empty-mile operations, when trucks travel with no cargo,
and for reducing the amount of time drivers' trucks stand idling--
and spewing CO2 into the air.
Once a few emission-cutting ideas were put in place, J.B. Hunt's
extensive data collection system started showing big declines in
energy use, Whicker says. The company sold its first offset
credits in partnership with Blue Source in 2005 and is now earning
about $100,000 a year from credit sales. "Is it a big moneymaker
for J.B. Hunt?" Whicker asks. "No. But it opened our eyes. They
gave us a free education in the carbon world." J.B. Hunt's
customers increasingly want details of its environmental record.
"If Blue Source hadn't been here, we'd be clueless as to what to
do in this area," Whicker says.
In 2001, Blue Source also picked up a client in northern Arkansas:
Springdale-based Tyson. The company had already started capping
the vast pools of waste from its beef, chicken and pork
slaughterhouses with plastic covers, says Kevin Igli, Tyson's
chief environmental officer. The system steers methane gas from
the waste to a central collection area, where some is used to
power Tyson plants and the rest is flared off. Blue Source helped
Tyson do an offset trade in 2004, Igli says, and is now advising
on new projects to capture methane.
By mid-2005, Townsend and Spencer were examining dozens of
potential carbon capture projects and rapidly building their
offset portfolio. They still had just four employees. They'd
funded small jobs themselves and otherwise sought project
financing. They decided they needed a backer. "So we called
Blackstone," Townsend says.
Once again, Spencer's contacts were critical. While negotiating
Albertsons' buyout of American Stores in 1998, he'd worked with
Katz. Spencer arranged a meeting in New York on a Monday to get
some friendly advice. By Tuesday afternoon, Blue Source was a
client.
In their initial meeting in early 2006, Katz told Townsend and
Spencer they could raise more money than the few hundred million
they anticipated, says Townsend, declining to offer more specific
figures. "There has been no shortage of interest," Katz says. The
banker set up about 10 meetings with potential investors,
including First Reserve.
With the private equity firm's backing, Townsend and Spencer have
the resources to provide both technical and ?financial help to
people like Mike Hanagan, who are willing to take a chance on the
future market for pollution offsets. For his part, Hanagan finally
has his project under way. In early September, BP allowed him to
open the valve that lets his CO2 gas stream south. The project
took longer than expected to be completed safely, according to BP
spokeswoman Sarah Howell.
For Townsend and Spencer, the connection means tons of new
pollution credits to sell to future customers--and more fuel for
their mission to make money and save the planet.?
LISA KASSENAAR is a senior writer at Bloomberg News in New York.
lkassenaar@bloomberg.net
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