I’ve lived in the south Pacific island nation of Vanuatu for 16 years. Tropical weather regularly interrupts trade. Even when they’re hundreds of kilometres away, cyclones wreak havoc on shipping. Isolation and deprivation define our lives. We know better than most how to cope.

So imagine our bemusement when we see ranks of empty shelves in Australia, New Zealand, the UK and the USA, denuded by people who pretty clearly have never dealt with a shortage before.

UK supermarkets ration toilet paper to prevent stockpiling Read more

And when we read about fisticuffs in suburban grocery stores over toilet paper, of all things… well, we’d facepalm, but that’s unsanitary.

Since 2003, I’ve endured half a dozen or so supply shortages as a result of cyclones and too many near misses to count.

In 2015, cyclone Pam devastated our tiny island nation, damaging 90% of all buildings in the capital. Days later, after visiting the devastated island of Tanna, I penned a few lines:

My house has blown down

And my garden is gone

And I don’t know what ship

My next meal is on.

Take it from someone who’s dealt with disruptions before. You’re facing two challenges: shortages, which probably won’t be terrible; and isolation, which can be.

But first, the world won’t run out of toilet paper. Your city won’t run out. Your neighbourhood store wouldn’t either, if you’d just leave some on the shelves. The same goes for canned foods.

Fortunately for everyone, the electricity and water supplies aren’t at risk from coronavirus, so refrigeration, communication, and light aren’t a problem. Count your blessings. A friend wisely observed once that the only real luxuries in life are hot water on a cold day, and cold water on a hot one.

If you have the cash to spare, there’s no harm laying in a few weeks’ worth of staples. No need to overdo it, experts and officials say enough food to tide you over for two weeks if you’re forced to self-isolate should do it in most places.

If you do choose to lay in supplies, don’t forget the small stuff. Sartre said “Hell is other people”. I say it’s two weeks of rice without sauce.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Supplies of bottled water are offloaded in Port Vila, the capital of Vanuatu, after Cyclone Pam devastated the country in 2015. Photograph: Dan McGarry/The Guardian

Back in 2004, cyclone Ivy stranded me on the island of Ambae. It took weeks to restore contact with the outside world. Within days, we were scouring the dregs of my host’s spice rack in order to make our daily plate of rice more palatable. That was an adventure that quickly stopped being fun.

Don’t get caught unprepared. Keep a supply of your favourite sauces and dry seasonings, the ones you love so much you’re willing to end up hating them. Because you will.

Other advice if you are stockpiling: buy things you know how to cook, nothing else. This is no time to experiment. Any tasty snacks you buy will be gone in 48 hours. Though I do recommend keeping a secret chocolate stash, so you can savour that.

And think about others. The people who most need to stockpile are the least able.

If you ask me, isolation is harder to cope with than any shortage. If we see widespread home-quarantining, and people forced to self-isolate for weeks to manage the spread of the virus, most of us are going to be distanced or alone for the first time in our lives. Kindness is going to matter more than ever.

If you do end up quarantined, your greatest enemy will be boredom.

I remember being trapped by a cyclone in a single room with three brilliant friends. We started out in high-minded discourse solving all the world’s problems, but twenty hours later we were reduced to debating whether Boutros Boutros Ghali or Kofi Annan was hotter. (Kofi, of course. Like it was even close.)

Things get silly – or serious – fast. You can either roll with it, or it will roll on you. Lighten up and you’ll make it through.

And be kind, even when you don’t feel kind. We’re all alone in this together.