On an ordinary July morning in Labrador, when the chilly breeze turned the sea glassy and clear, there was a ripple of something special—Micheal had returned to northern waters. There’s a peculiar kind of magic in these bays, best described by the way a whale like Micheal slides through them, as if the salt and spray know his name better than most.

In July of 1982, Micheal was sighted in Labrador, hugging the rugged coastline—a young upstart, he seemed at home dodging icebergs and stirring the gulls. Then, nothing but silence. Twenty-two turnings of the calendar drifted past, and some might’ve wondered if Micheal had chosen a different corner of the ocean to call home.

But the tale of Micheal only deepened with the sudden news of his arrival, not in the foggy Atlantic, but far south—Silver Bank, Dominican Republic, basking in February sun. It’s a spot famous for wintering whales, and perhaps he was swapping ice for sunshine, filling his lungs with tropical air and his heart with wanderlust.

Years slipped by again, a span stretching nearly two decades. Then, in the summer of 2022, a modest buzz spread through Bonavista Bay—Micheal surfaced, his grand tail unmistakable near Duntara, delighting anyone lucky enough to spot him. Three sightings sewed him back into the fabric of Newfoundland’s coast, like a long-lost friend dropping by without warning.