Excerpts from IS THAT A GRIZZLY I HEAR?       

from  CHAPTER 2 -- Logging in Goliath Bay   
        Timber rights to the trees growing on the benches above Goliath Bay in the first half of the 20th century were owned by Booth Logging Company.  The company ran a logging railway, Booth Logging Company Railway, between 1920 and 1928 which had four and 1/2 miles of track between Freil Lake and the head of an incline down into Goliath Bay.[1] 
       In the early 20th century big trees grew so tight between Freil Lake and Freil Falls that the only way fallers could cut them was to fall them straight into Freil Lake.  The logs were then towed across the lake, loaded onto one of the twenty-two log cars owned by the railway, hauled four and 1/2 miles on rails by a 50-Ton Climax locomotive to an incline that runs down into Goliath Bay.
       The grade of the incline was too steep for the locomotive to hold the heavy cars back so the cars were detached from the locomotive and attached, two at a time, to a donkey engine and lowered down the steep grade using the incline down to Goliath Bay.  That donkey engine was no doubt the same innocent looking, utterly powerful box of compressed steam that first pulled itself up to the bench.  Then, having been securely lashed down and anchored, hauled up the 50-ton Climax locomotive....       

from   CHAPTER 10 --  That Ramp is Made for Walking
           Today I'm tense. Very slowly I motor closer in.  The depth sounder can't find bottom or is broken.  The readings vary between zero, 3 feet, and 190 odd feet, but bouncing around and blinking as it does when it can no longer function in the conditions.  Those can't-function conditions are generally that there is more than 400 feet of water under us, there is mud, there is something stuck on the sensor or a connection is 'intermittenting'.     
           We won't know where we are depth-wise until the sounder begins giving steady reasonable readings or we hit bottom.  I am further unnerved.  After a long time it reads 385 feet.  Shortly later it flashes 21 feet.  Mark jumps into the Zodiac and runs in for a closer look.  He radios back to me that it’s a float alright and in good shape, with a ramp.  He is reassured.
          I am not.  No logging show remains; just the road growing weeds leading away from that ramp, and the ramp itself down to the float.  No people.  Just bears.  As the resident people have gone the resident bears have fewer food resources.  We, therefore, may be of interest to them....       

From-- CHAPTER 13 --  Land Piracy and the Masque of the Red Death
     The resort reopened in 1947. [2] Mr. Hamilton may well have believed that he was building another Jasper although, one that was privately owned.  Regular people would visit only as workers and servers of one sort or another.    
     After the war the wealthy, the famous, the beautiful, including many famous film people holidayed at Malibu Dream.  They were transported there in the many luxury yachts that Mr. Hamilton had acquired from the post war sales and auctions.  Some of the Fairmiles had been refitted as luxury accommodation for small parties.  Each of the Fairmiles had experienced crews made up of demobilized seamen, but none of the Fairmiles had night running lights.    
     Guests paid to be taken on these yachts from various ports to the south.[3] They would enjoy a beautiful trip along the coast before arriving at their luxury destination.  Some of the guests flew in on the Grumman.  Mr. Hamilton had the only license issued in B.C. to allow a plane to carry both passengers and freight.      
      The 1947 season was a complete success.   So was the 1948 season, until late August when Sydney Diane Harris collapsed as she was serving dinner.  She was seventeen years old, spending the summer as a server at the resort.  The nurse wanted her flown out, but they couldn't find Mr. Hamilton who was in a cabin with guests.  By the time he could be located it was too stormy for the Grumman Goose to take off.  By the time the clouds lifted enough for the Goose to fly it was night-time and too dark to fly without lights.    
      Mr. Hamilton had his quirks.  Amongst them was that he would not do maintenance until equipment was at failure, and he would not install night running lights on the vessels or on the Grumman reckoning it an unnecessary expense as they would not be running at night.  It being too dark by then for the lightless Grumman to lift off, the nurse and Philip Cook, captain of the Fairmile, ‘Malibu Arrow’, put Ms. Harris on board the Malibu Arrow.    
       No running lights.  Bad weather.  Captain Cook turned back.  Back at Malibu there was no reliable radio phone contact from Princess Louisa due to the mountains.  Nevertheless, by a miracle, some genius was able to connect by radio phone to Ms. Harris' family doctor in Vancouver.  That same genius kept that line open all night as the doctor in Vancouver, and the nurse at Malibu, fought to save Ms. Harris' life.      
     The doctor, the nurse, Ms. Harris' frantic family in Vancouver all knew what they were up against.  Earlier in the forties there had been repeated polio outbreaks....