The night was on fire at SSYC Closing Ceremonies. Master of Ceremonies Steve Baker dedicated the night to Betty Lems as he read a poem before we headed out to burn sour socks.
Them South Shore folks got an odd tradition,
Commodorable Juli swears it's not fiction.
Brian puts a barbecue down by the docks,
And all of the members burn their socks.

It's a terrible stench like burning rot,
Some say it’s peculiar, but I think it’s not.
Barbara and Dean put their socks on last fall
But never took ‘em off to wash ‘em, at all.

Through the spring and summer and into the fall,
Mary Beth and Jerry wear no socks at all.
Just stinky bare feet in old deck shoes,
Whether sailin' Hibachis or drinkin' some brews.

Rose and Patti will sail every week,
While Elizabeth hopes our boat doesn't leak.
The Nelsons hold forth in their Harbor 20,
Kathy Abbot crewed it to victory already.

I don't think in much trouble we'll be.
If Tina can keep the smoke in the lee
I think that if anyone does go to jail,
A true friend Mike Schmidt will be there with bail.

Incineration of socks is the only solution,
‘Cause washin’ ‘em contributes to Newport’s pollution.
Pleading ignorance will be Scott and John Marshall.
As once they did upon a bridge I did fall.

I dedicate this verse to Betty Lem,
Memories of her will never dim.
Her spirits in my heart fulfilled,
Or perhaps Jack Daniels with spirits distilled

So if into the Harbor on this night you sail,
And smell something rotten you wouldn’t inhale
You’ll know you’re downwind of the South Shore docks
Where they celebrate yachting by burning their socks.
-Social Director Jen Johns