There’s a certain kind of magic to July on Witless Bay—a shimmer in the air and laughter in the waves, where the sea’s bustle peaks with capelin and the keen hopes of bird and beast alike. Into this vibrant commotion arrives Eunice, a wise and weathered matron carried by memory and tide.

For five summers running, from July of 2001 to July of 2005, Eunice was seen gliding beneath the cliffs, backlit by clouds and seabirds wheeling above. Her returns matched the capelin run, her timing impeccable, like she kept a calendar tucked beneath a fin.

Each sighting brought subtle changes. Some years, the air tingled with anticipation, as if the whales themselves were marking something special. Then in 2011, Eunice was spotted again—this time with a calf, her devotion on display as the little one trailed her, learning the way of the waves. The bay, alive with puffin calls and salt-tinged breeze, became their nursery.

Eunice reappeared in 2013, once more with a youngster by her side. That summer, Witless Bay blossomed—a haven for mothers and calves, with Eunice sharing her secrets of the shallows and safe inlets. Between each season, there’s a long hush—years unaccounted for, hinting at grand oceanic journeys beyond our charts. Yet, whenever she returns, it feels like a family reunion for the whole bay.