November 13, 2024 — It’s an early fall morning, and Pat Avila is watching the sun crack over New Bedford Harbor from the passenger seat of his car. His trunk is loaded with a neon-yellow laundry sack for his foul-weather gear and a camo duffle holding everything else he might need on a fishing trip lasting anywhere between two days and two weeks.
Route 18 commuters aren’t yet on the road, and the waterfront is just beginning to stir. There is the clanging of fishermen mending their gear and the sighing brakes of freezer trucks. A baby blue scallop boat peels past the hurricane barrier, its diesel engine murmuring, as it heads to the open ocean beyond.
Avila, 39, with a wiry stature and tightly cropped haircut, eyes the ship in the distance as it heads out to sea. He isn’t on a boat this morning. At least, not yet. Instead, he is plying the docks in pursuit of landing a spot on a commercial fishing trip.