"I do recall being covered by white flakes and [thinking], 'What's this? Oh, it's arsenic flakes'."

As a young boy in Port Kembla, David Hurley watched the Electrolytic Refining & Smelting Company chimney stack grow from a huge hole in the ground until it towered over the surrounding area.

"At the old primary school we all watched with great interest as they built the stack next to it," says General Hurley, Australia's new Governor-General.

Historian Tony Moore grew up in the town, in the NSW Illawarra region, around the same time, and jokes about the effects of the chimney.

"It produced sulphur dioxide and lead. What that meant was the washing on Mondays was covered in soot," he says.

"They say lead poisoning can affect your height. Maybe I was meant to be really tall."

That was the 1960s, and by the early 80s the steelworks had reached its peak, with more than 20,000 employees.

But since then it's been a similar story to that heard in many Australian towns where large-scale industry has dropped away.

"You could virtually see tumbleweed blowing up the street at times, with the landlords boarding up their buildings and things like that," says Julie Howard, who works at a local cafe.

But there's still a vibrant cast of characters in Port Kembla — migrants, Indigenous people and a community of sex workers.

Together, slowly, they're seeking to rejuvenate the area, which is now a suburb of Wollongong.

"It's a hard town, it's got a tough history, it's got a dark history," local councillor Ann Martin says.

"But on the flipside of that, this is a town where people go out of their way to look after each other."

'Sometimes the only language was whistles'

Port Kembla's Wentworth Street was once a bustling thoroughfare. ( Supplied: Illawarra Historical Society )

Port Kembla's history is like a microcosm of Australian society, and provided an early window into multiculturalism.

In the 1950s, migrants began arriving from Macedonia, Germany, Italy and the UK.

"It was the navel of the world. This town was making modern Australia," Mr Moore says.

General Hurley says growing up in that multicultural society — and working with recent migrants at the smelter on his summer holidays — prepared him well for later life.

General David Hurley used to work in the steel industry on his summer holidays. ( Supplied: Greg Appel )

"You talk about a multicultural Australia — well that was really multicultural," he says.

"And sometimes the only language was whistles.

"When you whistle or the crane driver whistles or something, you know, 'Move over here, we've got to put this over here', or something."

D'Arcy Cheesewright from the National Trust remembers the main drag, Wentworth Street, being a hive of activity during the 1950s and 60s when he was a boy.

"My father liked to come out here and buy smallgoods and fruit and veg — it was the place to go," he says.

"You couldn't even walk on the street in those days, it was so busy on a Saturday morning.

"And the six o'clock swill around the pub, people were standing in the street here getting that last schooner in after having knocked off at 3:20 from the steelworks.

"This place was really buzzing."

It's also an area of great significance for Indigenous Australia.

The local Wadi Wadi people were said to have witnessed the passing of the First Fleet and the highest point in the town, Hill 60, was the site of an Aboriginal settlement before it was requisitioned by the defence force during World War II.

'One big family'

The Port Kembla copper stack was demolished in 2014. ( Getty/AFP: William West )

The town was hit hard by the economic downturn in the 1980s, and by the expansion of neighbouring Warrawong.

While the steelworks is still running, now it only has around 3,000 employees.

And the chimney stack no longer looms over the town — it was demolished in 2014.

But although the once bustling main street is much quieter now, there is still life in Port Kembla.

Places like the Vault cabaret theatre — which sprang up in one of the town's six old banks — have helped things pick up.

"I just love the fact that it's not suburbia," says local Dimi Kapsimallis.

"It's got its character and it's got its ghosts and it's got its future."

Ms Kapsimallis keeps an eye on the area's community of sex workers.

"If I see the girls walking around, if it's winter I'll ask how they are and are they warm enough?" she says.

"Or if I've just come back from the hairdressers they'd say 'Oh, had your hair done love?'"

Dimi Kapsimallis says Port Kembla has "got its character and it's got its ghosts". ( Supplied: Greg Appel )

Among them is Fran Lamonde, who has been a sex worker around Wentworth Street for about 15 years.

She says people and businesses on the street are "one big family".

"I keep an eye on their businesses after dark when they go home," she says.

"I don't know about anybody else but I have a lot of respect for the street."

Coming back to life

Councillor Martin says creativity has been a constant pulse through the ups and downs of Port Kembla's history.

"People have a perception of Port that is really quite negative, so the locals are very proud of this space," she says.

"The role of artists and creatives has always been here in Port Kembla and we have contributed greatly to peoples' perception of Port."

Locals say Port Kembla's beach is one of the hidden gems of the New South Wales coast. ( Getty: Mark Kolbe )

That creative, entrepreneurial spirit is present in people like Kevin Crane.

He opened a new hair salon six years ago, and says his was the first new business in Port Kembla in two years.

Since he arrived, he says, another 28 businesses have opened.

"I was worried about the stigma that sometimes came with [Port Kembla]," he says.

"But I looked at all the shops and just kept thinking, 'This place is so beautiful, it could be like Newtown in Sydney'.

"And I thought, instead of waiting for it to become like that, maybe I could help it become like that."

General Hurley, who was the NSW governor before being appointed to the federal role, agrees that the local people have had to drive the incremental change.

"When I look at Port Kembla ... and you look across the state, rural small communities are all under pressure because the basis of productivity is changing," he says.

"Local communities are very good at reinventing themselves."

What that invention turns out to resemble is still a little way from being realised.