Fog danced along the shore, catching on the spruce trees, as Pip made her way into the cool embrace of the North Atlantic. There’s a thrill when a visitor from far-off waters appears in Newfoundland and Labrador—a gentle reminder that every journey tells a story worth listening to.

Pip first made her presence known under the blazing sun of the Silver Bank, off the Dominican Republic, one fine February day in 2019. Down there, the water sparkles an impossible blue, and the air is thick with warmth. Seeing Pip there, you’d think she was a true tropical traveller, basking in southern seas as long as she dared.

But not long after, Pip turned her back on those sun-soaked waters and followed the winding, mysterious highway of the sea all the way north. By late July the same year, she popped up in Witless Bay, Newfoundland and Labrador. Imagine the scene—a churning mix of puffins overhead and capelin below, the cliffs streaked with green, and the waves carrying Pip right through the province’s most storied waters.

Years shifted quietly, as they do in these parts. Then, in July of 2026, Pip was spotted once more—this time up past St. Lunaire-Griquet. That’s about as far north as whales go around here before the ice says, 'enough for now.' What she saw along those wild, rugged shores, only Pip could say.