I suppose I could have read and transcribed the songbook's introduction to "Hills of Isle au Haut":

I realized a while after I'd written this song that it was confusing some people. That wasn't what I had in mind, so I looked at it again and realized that the key word in the song is also the shortest and least significant—sounding. The word is "but."
As one fellow told me: "I know I should get out of it here, and go
away. But I'm a fisherman, and if I'm going to starve as a fisherman, I might as well do it here where I can enjoy it."
That may be an odd way to put it, but...
Isle au Haut is a tall island in the Gulf of Maine. The place name Plymouth, Pedro Martir (a landfall in Portugal), and Cascais were memories from a rather wet offshore trip. I enjoyed the boat, and the people were fine, and if I had grown gills I'd have been perfectly comfortable, but.
Guitar in D; recording sounds D flat.
Isle au Haut = i'll oh hoe
westward =westard
Martir = marteer
Cascais = kass-keish