Living through a fuel crisis in one of the world’s most isolated cities

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I got my first electric vehicle (EV) in March, as the war raged on in Iran. l had planned to switch from my Toyota Corolla hybrid car later in the year, but expedited the decision when fuel prices shot up, and some fuel stations ran out of petrol and diesel here in Perth.

Diesel prices have been rising sharply, from averages of about A$1.80 in mid-January to more than A$2 in early March in the first week of the war, and is currently hovering at A$3.15. A cut in excise tax had only a short-lived effect. 

At a BYD showroom, a sales representative told us it had been “mayhem” in the last fortnight, as cars were snapped up. Most models were out of stock.

In the end, we secured a Kia EV3, apparently the second last available in the whole of Western Australia. The next shipment was due in three to four months. But with shipping disruption and rising diesel cost, there was no guarantee that new stock would reach Perth, even if it arrived in Sydney or Melbourne some 3,000km away. Bringing them over might be too costly. Fuel scarcity, in other words, is beginning to constrain even private transport purchase decisions.

Expediting our purchase of an EV was just one way we are gearing up for the tough weeks and months ahead, as Australia experiences a fuel crisis brought about by the war in Iran. Many are doing likewise. In March 2026, sales of EVs in Australia rose by 90 per cent compared with February.

Despite being over 10,000km from the conflict zone, Perth is feeling its impact directly. Geographical distance offers little protection when supply chains are tightly coupled and depend vitally on fuel.

Reliance on fuel

The Strait of Hormuz, a key passageway for oil tankers, has shut off a major source of Australia’s supply of fuel. Despite its vast natural resources and its status as a major liquefied natural gas exporter, Australia remains vulnerable to global energy shocks. It imports 90 per cent of its fuel needs, which include petroleum, diesel and jet fuel. About half of Australia’s diesel and jet fuel demand is tied to fuel passing through the Strait of Hormuz. 

As the conflict enters its eighth week, with little sign of the strait fully opening, some service stations in Australia are running out of fuel. In Western Australia, a real-time map of petrol stations and fuel supplies lets motorists plan their trips. The outages are limited – about 136 service stations, or 1.7 per cent of the total across Australia, as at April 16 according to Australia’s Federal Energy Minister Chris Bowen – but anxiety runs deep. Many of such impacted stations are in regional towns, where alternatives are far apart for farmers and travellers.

The Singaporean in me is used to relying on the Government to take the lead in emergency planning, and for citizens to follow. But here in Western Australia, people don’t wait. The culture of rugged individualism runs deep.

During Covid-19, it closed its borders to both overseas visitors and visitors from other states in Australia. In 1933, Western Australia even voted to secede from the federation of Australia, although that movement failed. So during a crisis, many unsurprisingly think that government action will come too little, too late, though not for a lack of trying.

The federal government is seeking to secure fuel supplies via Asian partners like Singapore, a major petrol refining hub. Supplies routed through Singapore account for about 26 per cent of Australia’s refined fuel imports, 55 per cent of petrol imports, and 22 per cent of aviation and turbine fuel imports.

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese met Singapore PM Lawrence Wong in Singapore recently, with both committing to keep fuel flows going. This, however, as PM Wong notes, depends vitally on upstream supplies continuing to flow through. In short: If oil cannot pass through Hormuz, it cannot be refined or routed through.

At the state level, Western Australia has encouraged working from home to reduce commuting, urged drivers to drive 10kmh below the speed limit to conserve fuel, and compelled fuel suppliers to disclose supply chain data to monitor stock. It is also considering creating a strategic diesel stockpile to reduce reliance on federal stocks in Queensland. State Energy Minister Amber-Jade Sanderson noted that existing stockpiles may be held in distant states such as Queensland. All of which raises the broader question of why buffers were so thin to begin with.

Boardroom and kitchen contingency plans

Meanwhile, all across the state, in kitchens, farms and boardrooms, people are making their own contingency plans. Much preparation centres on coping with the shortage of diesel, which underpins farming, mining and transport.

Electricity, thankfully, is less disrupted, since it runs on coal and gas. Many homes also have solar power panels and solar batteries, and are energy self-sufficient.

In homes, stockpiling of essentials is picking up quietly. Pictures on social media of Uber deliveries of cartons of essentials and dozens of rolls of toilet paper, however, attract mixed comments both sympathetic and vitriolic. 

That has created a mood of caution, with people avoiding overt signs of panic. At local hardware store Bunnings, jerry cans sold out within a week as drivers rushed to secure fuel. Some farmers, unable to access diesel in regional towns, are driving into Perth on near-empty tanks to fill up and keep their operations running during the critical seeding season. If planting is delayed, the impact will not just be on livelihoods, but could ripple into harvests and food supply weeks later as autumn prime seeding season gets under way.

Australian businesses are using leverage to secure their own sources of fuel. Fortescue metals group, a large iron ore mining group, is reportedly in conversations with its customers in China to secure diesel in exchange for iron ore.

Many smallholders have taken drastic action. In New South Wales, a cattle farmer reportedly paid almost A$50,000 (S$45,600) for a new fuel tank from North Queensland and expects to spend A$200,000 to have it filled.

“I do not have confidence that we’re OK,” the man was quoted by Financial Times as saying. “If we are, then why are the prices rising, why can’t I get supply and why are petrol stations running out of fuel?” 

A season of pain

The irony that American decisions on the war have created a global climate of volatility, which ordinary people in allied Australia have had to adjust to, is not lost on people here. As Australian Treasurer Jim Chalmers put it: “These were decisions taken around the table of the Situation Room in Washington, DC, but Australians are assembled around their kitchen tables working out how to pay for it.”

For now, there will be some belt-tightening and curtailing of lifestyles once taken for granted.

Over the recent Easter weekend, like many Australians doing their part to conserve for the collective good, my husband and I cancelled our camping trip down south. It felt wrong to use up a full tank to drive 600km there and back, when farmers were short of diesel for their farming.

At the Coles supermarket one morning, finding all the pasta packs gone, we picked up rice instead. We have chickens that lay us a daily supply of eggs. If the shops run out of food, we can live on egg fried rice and greens from the garden for a while.

Perth’s experience may be a temporary fuel crunch for now. But it is a reminder of how exposed modern economies have become – reliant on long, efficient but fragile supply chains with little margin for disruption. The shock of one can be felt in another corner of the world, even in one of the world’s most isolated cities, over 2,000km from the next urban centre.