When the sun slips low in the northern sky and the ice has all but retreated, Labrador’s coast glimmers with possibility. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, that shimmer is Roland—a male humpback who seems to travel with the tides and time itself.

Roland first graced Labrador’s chilly waters in July of 1979, gliding beneath cliffs dusted with seabirds and lichen. The world was a different place then, but the ocean kept its secrets well. As years rolled by, so too did Roland, vanishing deeper into the vast blue, where the days stretched long and silent.

Then, like an old story retold, Roland surprised watchers in July 1992 back along that very same coastline. The sea air was sharp, capelin flashed silver in the surf, and there he was—broad and sure, carving slow arcs between icebergs and sunlight. Yet again, the wild currents claimed him for nearly three decades. He slipped from sight, his path known only to the deep and the distant echo of his song.

It wasn’t until September 2021 that word of Roland washed ashore once more. This time, Bonavista Bay bore witness: gulls circling overhead, the last strokes of summer warming the rocks, and Roland’s fluke breaking the surface. To see him again after such a long and winding journey—across years, coasts, and even generations—was nothing short of delightful. What tales those salt-scarred fins could tell, if only we could hear them!