Food The long read

A hundred years of Saturdays at Harbor Street Market

It began as a fish auction on the quay. A century later, Port Avalon's market is where the city shops, eats and argues on a Saturday morning. Its stallholders on what keeps it going, and what might not.

By Rosa Calder and Rafael Quintero 2 minute read

At five o’clock on a Saturday morning, Harbor Street is dark and wet and smells of diesel. By six, the first vans have backed up to the old fish hall. By eight, it is so busy that the stallholders have to shout their prices over the crowd. It has been like this, more or less, since 1926.

Harbor Street Market began as an auction for the fish that came off the boats at the quay. Farmers from the valley started selling eggs and butter from carts at the edge of the auction, then cheese, then bread. The fish auction moved to the new port in 1981. The market stayed.

years of Saturday markets on Harbor Street
100
stalls on a busy Saturday in October
86
shoppers through the fish hall on an average Saturday
12,000
the furthest any produce can travel to be sold here
50 miles

The fish hall

The hall itself is a long brick shed with a glass roof, built in 1926 and listed in 1990, which means the market cannot change it and the city cannot easily knock it down. In winter it is freezing. In summer the glass roof turns it into a greenhouse.

A cake among small bowls of nuts and spices on a dark table
June Achebe’s bread stall, where the queue starts before the doors open. Photo: Annie Spratt / Unsplash

Inside, the stalls are arranged by a system nobody can fully explain. The oldest families have the pitches nearest the doors, and they hand them down. June Achebe, who has run the bread stall for nine years, is still considered new.

You do not choose your pitch here. You inherit it, or you wait for someone to retire. I waited six years.

June Achebe, baker

The 50-mile rule

Since 1974 the market has had one rule above all others: everything sold must be grown, caught or made within 50 miles of the hall. It was written to keep out wholesalers. It also means the market changes completely with the seasons, and that in March there is very little to buy except potatoes, leeks and stored apples.

A century on Harbor Street

  1. A narrow street of colourful houses with laundry lines

    1926

    The fish hall opens

    The city builds a brick auction hall on the quay. Farmers sell from carts outside.

  2. A chopping board, cast-iron pan, mortar and spices on a dark wooden table

    1952

    The farmers move inside

    A dozen farmers win the right to sell under the glass roof on Saturdays.

  3. A bowl of chopped vegetables on a wooden board

    1974

    The 50-mile rule

    Stallholders vote to sell only what is grown, caught or made within 50 miles.

  4. A curving beach and headland seen from above

    1981

    The fish auction leaves

    The auction moves to the new port. The market keeps the hall.

  5. A latte beside a bell and order slips on a café counter

    2014

    Coffee and breakfast

    The first hot-food stalls open. Saturdays start getting busy at seven, not nine.

  6. Biscuits, daffodils and lemon slices on a dark table

    2026

    The centenary

    The market turns 100, with 86 stalls and a waiting list of 140.

What it is worth

A study for the city last year estimated that the market brings $14 million a year into the streets around it. The cafés on Harbor Street open early on Saturdays because of it; the bookshop on the corner says Saturday is half its week.

A latte beside a bell and order slips on a café counter
Tidewater Coffee, opposite the hall, opens at 6am on Saturdays for the stallholders. Photo: Carli Jean / Unsplash

The next hundred years

The hall needs a new roof, and the bill is $3.2 million. The city has offered half, on condition that the market opens on Sundays too. Many of the stallholders are farmers who already work seven days a week, and they are not keen.

People think a market is a nice thing that just happens. It is eighty-six small businesses, every one of them up at four.

Tom Herrera, chair of the stallholders’ association

The stallholders vote in November. Whatever they decide, the vans will back up to the hall at six next Saturday, and the one after that.