SECHELT, B.C. -- It's noon and Steve Kubby is puffing on his third joint of the day. He'll smoke nine more before the sun sets on this sleepy, seaside community. Mr. Kubby has a rare form of adrenal cancer and says he will die if he doesn't consume that much marijuana every day.

He doesn't look stoned, or even sick. Dressed in a crisp blue suit and talking a mile a minute, he could pass for an over-caffeinated stockbroker. If anything, the trim, 56-year-old Californian looks the picture of health. He says that's because he has been smoking pot every day for more than 20 years.

Shortly after he was diagnosed with cancer, an old college friend, Richard Marin (also known as Cheech of the pot-smoking Cheech and Chong comedy duo) suggested he try marijuana to ease his discomfort. It worked.

Mr. Kubby says cannabis prevents his blood pressure from skyrocketing and keeps his tumours from spreading. His claims are backed by written testimonials from U.S. and Canadian specialists. But Mr. Kubby said his need for marijuana made him a target in the United States, where authorities are bent on maintaining zero tolerance for drug use.

It also turned him into a fugitive, and now he and his family are seeking political asylum in Canada.

Mr. Kubby is not alone. Three other Americans have made refugee claims in recent months. As Canada moves toward liberalizing its marijuana laws, some observers predict the cases could prompt a flood of similar claims from the United States.

Mr. Kubby says he fits the United Nations definition of a political refugee. He says he and his wife, Michele, 36, were targeted, arrested and put on trial because of his pot dependence. At their home in Squaw Valley, Calif., the Kubbys kept more than 200 plants before sheriff's deputies arrived at their door in 1999, confiscated the crop and charged Mr. Kubby with 19 counts of cultivating and trafficking marijuana.

In an interview at his three-storey rented house overlooking this fishing and logging town of 8,000 about an hour's drive and ferry ride north of Vancouver, Mr. Kubby said: "I have been singled out for persecution.

"That is the definition of a refugee, being singled out for persecution because of my condition."

As if on cue, Mr. Kubby announces partway through the interview: "I've got to medicate." He grabs a 10-centimetre-long joint from a glass jar, steps out on the balcony and lights up, inhaling deeply.

With their sparkling white teeth, preppy clothes and thick manes of hair, Mr. and Mrs. Kubby don't fit the stereotype of die-hard pot activists. They look and act like the all-American couple.

Mrs. Kubby pumps one's hand enthusiastically while her husband offers refreshments during an interview. Daughters Brook, 6, and Crystal, 2, play in the living room with Adam the babysitter, rounding out the image of serene, middle-class domesticity.

Mr. and Mrs. Kubby met in 1995 on a gondola at a Lake Tahoe ski hill, where Mr. Kubby published an outdoor magazine. In 1998, Mr. Kubby ran for governor of California as a Libertarian candidate, taking 70,000 votes. They were living the good life, until, as Mr. Kubby puts it, the United States' so-called war on drugs came to their living room.

By then, Mr. Kubby was a well-known marijuana activist. He ran his campaign for governor to garner support for Proposition 215, an initiative that allowed for certain patients to use marijuana for medical reasons. The proposition passed.

His interest in the subject was personal. In 1975, he was diagnosed with adrenal cancer. He underwent radiation and chemotherapy, but his doctors gave him two years to live.

Then, at Mr. Marin's suggestion, he began smoking marijuana. It controlled his blood pressure, improved his appetite and dulled the pain. He has been smoking and growing his own crops ever since. During his bid for the governorship, he went public with his habit, which he suspects enraged law-enforcement authorities.

But after a highly publicized trial in which he used Proposition 215 as a defence, a jury acquitted him of the cultivation and trafficking charges. He was convicted on two misdemeanour counts of possession and sentenced to four months house arrest. One condition was that he abstain from marijuana during that time.

Mr. Kubby left the United States because he said the conditions amounted to a death sentence.

Despite his acquittal on the more serious charges, Mr. Kubby said the U.S. government is clamping down on states such as California that have passed laws allowing the medical use of marijuana. In recent months, several medicinal marijuana clubs have been raided.

Once in Canada, the Kubbys accepted a $50,000 (U.S.) contract from B.C. marijuana activist Marc Emery to produce and broadcast news for Pot-TV, a Web site providing news on marijuana issues. They produce their show from their Sechelt home.

The refugee claims have prompted some eye-rolling in Canada, especially the suggestion that the Americans face imminent death if returned to their homeland. Some refugee experts say the claimants will have a hard time persuading an immigration panel that the United States is targeting sick Americans for persecution.

The UN definition says a person must prove a well-founded fear of persecution based on race, religion, political beliefs, nationality or membership in a social group.

"The actual definition of a refugee in the legislation is quite narrow," said Janet Dench of the Canadian Council for Refugees.

However, Raoul Boulakia, president of the Refugee Lawyers Association of Ontario, noted that recent changes to the Immigration Act say a refugee can also be someone who faces cruel and unusual punishment if returned home.

The ailing pot users could make that argument, Mr. Boulakia said.

Meanwhile, Mr. Kubby's life in Canada hasn't been hassle-free.

In April, RCMP and Immigration officers arrived at the Kubbys' home, seized 164 marijuana plants and charged Mr. Kubby with cultivating marijuana for the purpose of trafficking. He is scheduled to appear in court this month, when he will ask a judge to dismiss the charges on the basis of medical need.

He was held in a Vancouver remand centre for four days, during which time Mr. Kubby said he went into hypertensive shock. Without marijuana, he suffered severe diarrhea and vomiting. He said he lost 20 pounds in four days and believes he would have died had he remained much longer in custody.

The couple hope that Canada's criminal and immigration system will show leniency and compassion. They say they love Canada's tolerance and never want to return to California.

They have even started to say "eh" at the end of their sentences.

"We're just a family trying to survive," Mrs. Kubby said.