The video narrates three notorious episodes involving Canada’s two‑dollar coin, the toonie, illustrating how its lack of serial numbers and ubiquitous presence have made it a magnet for crime. First, in 1996 a tractor‑trailer full of 1.5 million toonies was stolen from a Montreal rail yard; the van was recovered within hours but the coins vanished and the case remains unsolved. Second, in 2012 a Brinks armored truck in Northern Ontario crashed on Highway 11, spilling $3‑5 million worth of toonies (and a second truck’s candy load) across the road, prompting a chaotic scramble for cash and the use of an industrial magnet to recover the metal. Finally, starting in 2020 counterfeit “Camel Toe” loonies—metal badges with a split‑front polar‑bear design—flooded Canada from Guangzhou; Canadian authorities fined an Ontario distributor $100,000 and sentenced a Quebec importer to nine months, while the Chinese manufacturers faced no charges. The narrator closes by promoting a free newsletter (farandwide.news) for more true Canadian stories.
I guarantee the Canadian $2 coin has lived a more interesting life than you. This is the story of the most lawless $2 in the world. Let's start in Montreal, 1996. The toonie, as we call it, has only been in circulation for 5 months. Someone at a rail yard decides that's long enough and drives off with a tractor trailer containing 1.5 million of them. Broad daylight. During lunch hour. The Royal Canadian Mint admits that recovery is basically impossible because Coins don't have serial numbers. They're all identical.
Less than 3 hours after the robbery, police found the missing van here in front of the Coca-Cola plant in Lachine. All 60 tons of coins inside were missing. Nobody charged.
To this day, 30 years later, it remains unsolved. Now fast forward to 2012, Northern Ontario, 4 in the morning. A Brinks armored truck carrying toonies crosses the center line on Highway 11, hits a rock, the rock peels the truck open like a tin can, and the coins remember traveling at highway speed, suddenly get catapulted hundreds of meters down the road. A police officer tells the media it was, quote, "Pretty much like walking on a carpet of loonies and toonies, sometimes ankle deep." Between $3 and $5 million in coins. And then, because Canadians like making performance art out of things that are awkward, another truck comes roaring up behind it, also crashes, also spills its load, which was, I swear I'm not making this up, Candy! Canada's most fun piñata! O'Brinks brings in an industrial magnet from a nearby scrapyard to recover the coins, but not before people do what people are gonna do: help themselves to the money! Eventually, off-duty police officers are hired to keep people away, but no one gets charged for taking a few bucks. And then, there is the Camel Toe Loonie. That is its actual name, given by collectors, because the fake coins have a polar bear with a split front paw. Starting in 2020, counterfeit toonies made in Guangzhou in China for roughly 5 cents each begin flooding into Canada. They're sold as replicas, but the customs statement calls them "metal badges," and I guess Canada Customs is like, "Well, that's good enough for us." So a man in Ontario is fined $100,000 for passing around 40,000 of them, and no jail time. The Quebec man who imported them gets 9 months. The Chinese manufacturers, of course, are never charged. So next time someone asks you what Canada's contribution to the world is, You can say, "A coin made of two things, fused together, turns up everywhere, never quite gets the credit it deserves. Very Canadian." I write a free newsletter with more true Canadian stories. You can sign up at farandwide.news.
