At 8 a.m. on Saturday morning, Hannah Lidman and Beau Robinson, a Realtor at the Landmark Group, are clutching coffee cups and standing in the basement of a home on Wolcott Avenue South in Seward Park, fixated on the images streaming from a nearby laptop. Footage of a pipe zooms toward the screen, its colors a mixture of supersaturated black and white. The eerie images look like something out of a stylish thriller—until the camera hits a few dark globs attached to the side of the pipe, which causes the pair to flinch.
The laptop is streaming real-time video of the underground sewer line of the house, which Lidman intends to purchase. A few feet away, Rick de la Mare, with the build of a former football player, is pushing a $3,500 camera head down the pipe, narrating his own display.
“That’s PVC plastic,” he says as the pipe turns turquoise, pointing out the difference in materials. He then explains to Lidman that because the house was built in 1914, he expected to see a pipe made of clay tile. “So some work was done here. That’s typical,” he adds.
De la Mare, who runs the video pipeline inspection service Hydro-Physics, is demystifying the process of sewer pipe inspection. What’s more, he’s also trying to infuse a little personality into a seemingly mundane exercise. To wit, after 20 minutes of video that identified a small hole in the pipe, de la Mare burns Lidman a DVD.
“This is better than the video of my dad’s colonoscopy!” exclaims Lidman, a policy associate for a local think tank.
“We like to call this your hydro-physical,” quips de la Mare, as he hands over a bag of popcorn emblazoned with the Hydro-Physics logo.
“That’s really our only marketing technique,” he deadpans, in reference to the popcorn-and-a-movie shtick. De la Mare then launches into the oral portion of his report, detailing what types of material the sewer pipe is made out of. He concludes by taking the pair to the backyard and locates the hole—22 inches underneath a set of stone stairs—estimating that a repair will run $800.
The 40-year-old de la Mare opened his branch of Hydro-Physics in January 2000, after spending 13 years working in quality assurance for Boeing, where he was “responsible for everything and in control of absolutely nothing.”
Since the launch of his franchise, his wife, Trina, has been able to quit her job running a day care to stay home and tend to Hydro-Physics’ books. Business is booming for de la Mare: In a few months, his trainee will graduate to employee status, and two Hydro-Physics vans will be darting all over town.
Steve Jones, a sales manager for Seattle Pump, which sells cameras along with plumbing equipment for drainpipes, sold his first camera in 1999, and now says that he has “dozens and dozens” of local clients. “In this market, it’s been a steady climb. We’re really starting to rely more and more on underground utility. With the growth around the Puget Sound area, more and more of that underground utility—whether it’s pipe or cable or gas lines—[is] being laid.”
“I’ve always recommended it,” Windermere real-estate agent Kathrine Faulkner says of sewer inspections. While there’s not yet a precise gauge of how many people follow through with the suggestion to get such an inspection, she states that the presumed increase in the sector can be traced to “greater numbers of both consumers and agents in the industry. With that, there’s a natural rise—coupled with the fact that buyers are more educated.”
While the local yellow pages list more than 160 businesses in the Seattle area focusing on sewer and drainage issues, de la Mare has already achieved the sign of a successful business: the copycat. “Hydro-Physics, I believe, [was] the first to just focus on inspection. I modeled my business after theirs. I saw it and stole it because I thought it was a good idea,” says Aaron Branstetter, owner of Seattle Sewer Inspection.
At only five months old, Branstetter’s business is already averaging two to three inspections a day. “People who also do repairs are more likely to find problems that may not really exist because they want their commission on jobs,” says Branstetter, who was employed by Mr. Rooter for three years before jumping ship.
Not everyone has a sense of humor when it comes to demystifying a house’s muck-filled innards. “Popcorn: Is that right?” says Dave Richardson of the Western Washington Chapter of the American Society of Home Inspectors. “That’s a little overkill. What’s the purpose of your job? The purpose of your job is not to make a video to entertain your clients with popcorn. The purpose of your job is to educate them.”
When asked how he makes the experience fun or less stressful for the home buyer or seller, Richardson answers, “I make it fun for the clients: I make it a learning experience.”
But for de la Mare, there’s plenty of room for on-the-job showmanship. “You know what?” he says. “There are hundreds of inspectors…some who are really serious, some who have a video camera, and some who have me in stitches just because they’re a one-man comic show. They come in all different sizes and flavors and qualities.
“People kept saying, ‘We should get popcorn with this !'” de la Mare adds. “So we just did it. It’s usually good for a chuckle.”
