The gallant and enduring spirit of the uncelebrated surfer.
Here, in all their uncelebrated glory, are the Western Australian surfers Jake Edwards, Nick Muntz, Jack Chalis and Josh Cattlin plunging into the north-west with tents and tube-friendly boards.
It’s a feature not dissimilar to Billabong’s “Holy Tubes in the Naked Desert“. Blue skies. Blue water. Tubes so wide you could jockey a camel through them etc.
It’s difference lies in its examination of the experience of the little-known ripper who migrates north from Perth each winter to chase the big south swells away from the fronts that destroy Margaret River.
Watch them in their tents being torn apart by the wind. As lizards scuttle about and small black beetles walk laboriously across the sand in the search for juicy shrubs. These are the sort of surfers who consider themselves well off if they don’t have to sleep naked in the freezing sand.
Trying to find a little saliva to moisten the mouth.
Dreams of racing streams of ice-cold water.
Sucking on date stones for nutrition.
How gallant and how enduring is their spirit.
Watch in a few parts, I’d suggest. It’s long. But watch.