When one of the coldest winters in decades finally loosened its grip, Annapolis’ Eastport neighborhood marked the change the way it always has: by burning socks. The Annapolis Oyster Roast and Sock Burning, held around the spring equinox, draws hundreds for bonfires, miles of oysters, live music and a rowdy sense of relief that winter is over.
The ritual traces back to 1977, when a frustrated local boatman tossed his socks into a fire rather than wear them again after the bay froze over. Bob Turner, a boatyard worker, reportedly vowed he wouldn’t put the socks back on until winter returned. The tongue-in-cheek gesture caught on, and over decades it grew into a communal celebration that signals the start of boating season and warmer days.
This year’s crowd described the winter in one word: brutal. Race organizers at the Annapolis Yacht Club delayed their “Frostbite” series because Spa Creek and the Severn River iced over — the first such postponement in two decades, said race committee co-chair Dick Neville.
On festival day, sunshine and live sets from the Eastport Oyster Boys and the Naptown Brass Band set an upbeat mood. Locals came to watch the flames and socialize; Mary Keller said she enjoyed the spectacle with bemused satisfaction. Longtime attendee Scot Labin said part of the fun is deciding which socks to sacrifice: holey blends, Egyptian cotton bought by well-meaning mothers, and dress socks that lost their purpose during months of remote work.
Oysters are central to the event. Veteran shucker Mike Dicus, who’s been at it for 35 years, had already worked through thousands of oysters by midday and expected to keep going. He demonstrated the classic Eastern Shore technique of opening oysters from the front to free the muscle without losing the brine.
Near the ceremony’s peak, Annapolis poet laureate Jefferson Holland reads his ‘Ode to the Equinox,’ a playful reminder of why people fling socks into the fire: through spring, summer and fall, revelers go sockless, embracing warm-weather barefoot life — ‘stinky bare feet stuck in old deck shoes,’ the poem jokes — and bid the long winter farewell.
When Holland finishes, the main event erupts. There’s no formal procedure — it’s a gleeful free-for-all. Dozens of socks sail into the sandy pit, some catching immediately, others needing a nudge. Children and longtime residents participate alike, turning the act into both theater and release.
At its heart, the Oyster Roast and Sock Burning is a celebration of seasons: a communal way to burn the old, welcome the new, and launch months of boat rides, steamed oysters and barefoot afternoons. Framed by music, food and a little harmless pyrotechnics, the tradition remains a lively, enduring part of Annapolis life.