A gallery by Jack Sherriffs, 19, Perth.
Above: George in da spot. Photo: Jack Sherriffs
Jack Sherriffs is a 19-year-old Perth photog whose images we dig and which we often find a home for in print (he’s got a bewdy of his mate Lee Wilson in the Shooting Gallery of the current issue, #201, – find your nearest copy here!). Anyways, here are a small bunch of shots that missed a print home this time around (WA is a competitive hive of imagery) that Jack’s graciously allowed us to share with you, featuring some frothy background words. Nice work, Jack. Check out more of Jack’s photos and give him a follow on Instagram – @jacksherriffsphoto.
On this Friday morning, a bit of insanity sparked me up with energy. I was in one of the final hours of a hard yakka 12-hour night-shift, about to head over to Rotto Box via a ski with a couple mates straight after. Despite me smelling worse than my dog’s special lawn, looking like I’d been rolling in the dirtiest of mulches, falling off a nearly submarining ski halfway across to Rotto and losing my favourite Canadian Club Beanie – it was still bloody worth it! We rocked up to this wave pumping with no one out and only a couple tourists on the cliffs chucking out the shakas. My mates got straight into it with Lewy Finnegan, George Humphreys, Davis Blackwell and Stricko [James Strickland] rocking up an hour later. It just kept getting better.
Above: George and an absolute belter.
Above: Georgey Boy and another screamer.
Above: Lewy, wow.
Above: Dat Lewy Finnegan invert.
Above: Davis gets in on the action.
Above: Davis, another round pipe.
On this weekend the boys and I all planned to head away camping in search of waves. On the first day we got some real fun waves and then camped out with a good fire. Over some frothies and baked beans, my mate Lee Wilson started chatting about this wave he knows and said it could be on the next day. We were all amped up and couldn’t wait for the morning to arise.
The next morning after a huge trek to Lee’s wave our smiles turned to frowns with the sight of a way too low tide scrap of a wave. We all started giving Lee so much shit as at that stage we were all thinking we’d just trekked there for nothing, except for losing the beer fat from the night before! But then we looked far far down the beach and saw a wave that looked alright from the distance. So we were all like, bugger it, let’s go – we’ve got nothing to lose. As we were trekking it to the wave, which was another 30-minute walk, the wave just got better and better. We arrived to the biggest/sketchiest wedge I’ve ever witnessed. The boys lost their shit and went straight out. It was a real inconsistent wave. Even though Jake only got two waves that day, they’ll both be in his top five waves he’s ever ridden, with the other photo I got of him being one my favourite photos I”ve taken to date (not shown here). Good times were had and nothing beats finding a wave – definitely a wedge!
Above: Jake Metcalfe, grom exuberance.
Above: Jakey at the wedge.
Above: Jake airing, rolling and spinning. Not the wedge, but looks pretty fun nonetheless.