Adam-

Hi! When do you get back to Maine?

Well, I did find my old notebook, which is falling apart, but the song is there as transcribed in 1965:

Away Isle au HautM
(By Charlie Ipcar and members of the Puliston Family, 1965, parody of "Away, Idaho" as collected by Frank Warner)

The say there is a land where crystal waters flow,
Where banks of cod are there, by God, way out at Isle au Haut!

Chorus:

Away, Isle au Haut,
We're coming, Isle au Haut,
Our four-house gray* is on its way,
Way out to Isle au Haut!

You'll need no hook or line, no net nor bait nor twine,
The largest float up to the boat, way out at Isle au Haut. (CHO)

We'll face hard times no more and want we'll never know,
When we have stuffed our bellies full, way out at Isle au Haut. (CHO)

Now one thing that is true, there's nothing like homebrew,
For on our toots we're pissed as newts, way out at Isle au Haut. (CHO)

We have such a leaky boat, you'd wonder to see her afloat,
But we stay dry 'cause we're so high, way put at Isle au Haut. (CHO)

While sailing through the fog, we need no compass or log,
We sniff the air and if it's fair, we're bound for Isle au Haut. (CHO)

One thing that is false, commercial beer has no malts;
The truth is this, it taste , it tastes like piss, way out at Isle au Haut. (CHO)

We'll really have a feed, we'll eat all that we need,
And them that choose can drink homebrew, way out on Isle au Haut. (CHO)

We'll really have a bash, on homebrew we'll get smashed,
And on the rocks we'll all lie crocked, way out on Isle au Haut. (CHO)

Not a particularly brilliant song but it suited the moment. Bok did a better job!

Cheerily,
Charley Noble