Fog curled along the water’s edge like an old woollen scarf as Avalon glided into Witless Bay, her grand arrival coming with the rising sun. Seabirds fussed above, but nothing distracted from the sight of her—the sea’s own gentle matriarch, claiming the morning with a hush and a spray.

July mornings in Newfoundland and Labrador are brisk, and Avalon seemed to fancy the freshness. On the 10th and 11th of 2025, she was spotted enjoying both the open water and the protected cradle of Witless Bay Ecological Reserve. If you were lucky enough to glimpse her fluke, you’d remember it—the cool grace as she slipped between kelp beds, trailed by gulls eager for leftover capelin.

Come the next summer, Avalon was back—no fanfare, just the same serene poise. She wandered Witless Bay on June 29th, perhaps following the faint call of fish or simply old memory. By the next day, she’d drifted to Mobile Bay, earning another line in her curious travelogue. Two weeks later, she surfaced in Bay Bulls, that bustling harbour ringed by rolling green cliffs and tiny boats hoping for a show. Avalon was unhurried, content to weave her way through these scenic corners like a thread in a patchwork quilt.