And now, as entire cities across the country lock down amid the COVID-19 crisis, a section of NSW that's been holding its breath for months is being pushed under once again. The acute terror endured by residents during the bushfire crisis has been replaced by quiet, grinding anxiety and uncertainty borne out of the invisible coronavirus pandemic. Oyster farmer Rick Christensen on his way up the Clyde River. Credit:Louise Kennerley "It's just been one thing after the other and now they're shutting the pubs and restaurants, and tourism has been pathetic; I mean who wants to come to a place that's on fire, and then it's flooding? And now corona," he said. "If there's a hell I reckon we've been through it, and now with the coronavirus, I don't see it stopping."

His oysters are sorted by weight. The biggest usually go to restaurants, others to fish shops, but this entire harvest will be sunk back underwater where they'll sit and wait for the latest disaster to end. He said he hadn't made money since November. Loading Replay Replay video Play video Play video In town, butcher Jason Funnell has just been forced to lay off two workers for the first time in 23 years as meat supply dwindles. Butcher Jason Funnell says his business may have to close as meat supply dwindles. Credit:Louise Kennerley "We're faced at the moment with not being able to get any meat and, if that happens, we'll just have to close the doors," he said.

Local farmers no longer have enough beef for Mr Funnell's store, so he has to turn to Sydney wholesalers who he says are beginning to mark their prices up. Businesses that hadn't already gone under along Batemans Bay's main strip were beginning to shut this week in what local member Andrew Constance described as "a complete and utter wipe-out". Further south in Cobargo, where flames destroyed scores of properties and killed two people, the coronavirus has put the fire recovery on hold. Temporary accommodation erected months ago still stands on nearby hillsides, while volunteers who had travelled to the town to install fencing have begun isolating themselves. Kevin Allen, who lost his home from bushfires earlier this year, is now living in a caravan on his property. Credit:Louise Kennerley Beef farmer Kevin Allen, 68, has been living with his family in two small caravans parked next to the charred remains of his farmhouse.

"They're our homes now," he said, standing in what used to be his front yard, wearing clothes donated to him by the local community. "I suppose you could be scared, but we just hope nothing is going to happen." His nephew Dave Allen owns the Cobargo pub, where locals had been congregating in the difficult months after the fires to support each other. Cobargo Hotel owner David Allen says the pub gave locals a place to congregate and support each other before it shut due to COVID-19. Credit:Louise Kennerley "It was just that sense of community and we were all in it together to help each other. It was inspiring and it gave everyone a lift. You weren't alone. That's all finished," he said. "People have got nowhere else to go."

An hour up the Princes Highway, Mogo Zoo director Chad Staples is trying everything he can to ensure the business survives when the lockdown ends. His zoo only just survived the bushfires and reopened about a month ago, and now faces another shutdown. Loading "It's a tough one. It's exactly what we didn't need after the bushfires. In saying that, everyone is hurting and we're not special in this circumstance," Mr Staples said. There are concerns about how the pandemic will affect not only physical but mental health, particularly among the region's Aboriginal community, with a spate of youth suicides this year. "Aboriginal communities - not just ours, but everywhere - we're still in grieving mode. Over the fire period, we had three youth suicides. It doesn't stop," Joanne Grant, the chief executive of Katungul Aboriginal Medical Services in Narooma, said.

Property losses during the fires have exacerbated pre-existing issues with overcrowded housing, making it more difficult to maintain proper hygiene and social distancing. "It was drought, it was fire, it was flood - now it's corona," she said. Norm Ingersole, who runs a fishing and sightseeing charter business on the waters around Narooma with his son Nick, said he hadn't had a full tour since Christmas. Norm Ingersole, joint owner of Narooma Charters. Credit:Louise Kennerley "After the fires, they said, 'Come back, come back, come back.' Then it rained and we had floods so they didn't come back. It's only just got back to when we could get some charters again and now this," he said.

Narooma resident Katrina White said supplies were running low in the town, while the internet was slowing down as she tried to home school her five children. People were buying ventolin inhalers from local chemists and posting them to Sydney before limits were imposed, she said. "At least with the fires we could see where it was coming from. It's just the fear of the unknown," Ms White said from the laundromat she owns along with a butchery with her husband, David. Katrina White cleans her empty Laundromat in Narooma. Credit:Louise Kennerley The tourism disaster is now also affecting Sydney businesses, such as Rooty Hill resident Brad Wicks' Ugo Transfers.

This week the 51-year-old started doing shift work, packing boxes at Woolworths for the foreseeable future to keep his business afloat. "I think the message is that we recognise that no one is immune to the effect of this virus. Brad Wicks, chief executive of a tourism outlet, has taken to stacking shelves at Woolworths to help his business get through this downturn. Credit:Edwina Pickles "It's going to affect us emotionally and financially and we need to understand that we have to work together to help businesses and individuals alike to get through this," he said. ❏ Support is available for those who may be distressed by phoning Lifeline 13 11 14; Mensline 1300 789 978; Kids Helpline 1800 551 800; beyondblue 1300 224 636.