Getting Back- 10 years later

How do you get back to somewhere you've once been when all is now changed and that place no longer exists but in memories and hearts? I keep coming back to that question... When I was 20 I went out to spend some time volunteering on a little medical ship called the M/V Island Mercy. It was August 1997, and she was tied up in Newcastle, Australia, awaiting crew, cargo and whatever else was needed to head up into the Islands of Vanuatu (Formerly the New Hebrides) on outreach. There were at that time a little over 30 of us on board, though that number would swell as our sailing date approached. I felt God was calling me to be there and I guess I thought it would be an adventure but I don't think I ever anticipated how much that little ship and all we did with her would change my life. I'm 30 now, and I cant believe it's almost 10 years since that period of my life began. I now live about as far from the ocean as you can get, but when I stop, sit down and allow my mind to wander just a bit, I'm back in those islands, on that little ship, worrying about nothing more serious than terminating some rust, wondering if the engineers will ever fix the sink in my cabin, and weather I can afford one of those beautifull glass bottles of Coke they still sold in Honiara at that time. I miss that life. So often I'm back there, dreaming. I can still hear the voices of the islanders, singing accapela or with homemade drums, the roar of the surf, the hum of the old diesels, the heat in the engine room, the heat in my cabin, actually the heat everywhere. You couldn't escape the heat. I used to go stand in the walk in freezer in the galley sometimes to cool off, but the head cook, Jason Sanderson, wasn't too fond of me doing that if I remember. I guess that's why i'd like the coke so much, I could put it in the freezer for a half an hour or so and it would just start to get frosty inside, then you'd go out on deck in the hot tropical Solomon Islands sun, and there was nothing in the world nicer than that frosty bottle of Coca Cola in your hand. I don't know what it is that I miss the most about that life... weather it's the simplicity of everything, the adventure, the community we had on board (though sometimes we were at each other's throats, too.) I guess I'm just in love with that life... the life I once had. Now, you know, I'm working. Car payments, Visa bills, phone bills, trying to get a mortgage... you know. Trying to get a life in the world the way everyone else does. I like my job, for the most part. I drive a bus. I like driving. But I know I've been ruined for the ordinary. There's not a day it escapes me. It's -32c today, -42c with the windchill. yesterday was -48c. For Americans, I think that's about -60F. Cold however you look at it. Too cold. But despite my complaining I'm getting used to it and I guess I don't mind it. But in my mind I'm still in those Islands. I can't go back. I've tried. That place, it does not exist anymore. The ship is still around, as far as I know anyways. It was sold in 2001 and replaced with a little 102' motor yacht. I think she is now a training vessel in the Philipines. That was last I heard anyways. The new ship that replaced her is the Pacific Link, a great little ship. I spent most of a year on her when they got her, but she's not the same. The people that were part of our crew are now all over the world, from Scotland to New Zealand to Canada to wherever else. Some married, some with kids, some working. A few still in ministry with Marine Reach, though not many so far as I know. Even if they still had the ship, things would be so different now. People change. The world has changed. I've changed. I'm older. Maybe even wiser. I even found a few grey hairs on my head the other day. That made me laugh. But yeah. I've slowly come to accept it. That place that I love so much, It is gone. Not completely, though, because it is a part of me. It is a part of who I am and what I do. God Bless Jacob