He bought the world’s oldest passenger ship — and spent $18 million turning it into a hotel

The vessel has had many lives — and many names — since, in a career that eventually made it the oldest active passenger ship on the oceans. But the 111-year-old boat’s latest assignment is, perhaps, the unlikeliest of them all.

Originally used to transport onions and other goods, the Medina was conscripted to assist America’s World War II efforts. It was then converted into a passenger ship, the SS Roma, and fitted with a diesel engine before serving as a cruise liner under the name MS Franca C. In 1977, it was acquired by a Christian organization and renamed MV Doulos, a missionary ship and floating library.

Over the next three decades, the vessel sailed over 360,000 nautical miles and docked in over 100 countries. It was once even attacked with grenades by Muslim separatists in the Philippines in a 1991 terrorist incident that left two evangelists dead.

Now, after more than a century at sea, the ship has come to rest — on dry land — in Bintan, a tropical Indonesian island known for all-inclusive beach resorts. Singaporean businessman Eric Saw, the historic vessel’s latest owner (or current “steward,” as he prefers to be known), has spent the last 15 years and around 23 million Singapore dollars ($18 million) of his own money transforming it into a luxury hotel.

“If I didn’t have this project, maybe I’d have a Ferrari and a Lamborghini at home, and I’d be sailing around the world every year with my family,” the 74-year-old reflected over lunch at the hotel’s restaurant, which is part of a new two-story structure built to the vessel’s bow. The gargantuan task of purchasing, renovating and hauling the historic ship ashore was, however, “a calling from God.”

Now named Doulos Phos, or “Servant of Light” in Greek, the ship stands on an anchor-shaped spit of land reclaimed from the South China Sea specifically for Saw’s venture. Its huge propeller, long hidden beneath the waterline, is today fully visible. So, too, is the underside of the ship’s 428-foot-long hull, which, like the Titanic’s, was constructed with steel plates joined together by rivets. (Welding wasn’t widely used in shipbuilding until the 1930s.)

Inside, low-ceilinged passageways lead to around 100 rooms and suites. Some still feature circular portholes for windows. Others contain heavy metal doors, with pull-down handles, opening onto side decks that were once used by sailors to move around the ship but now are subdivided into private, sea view balconies.

The hotel’s original opening in 2019 proved a false start. Strict Covid-19 travel restrictions imposed by Indonesia and nearby Singapore, whose affluent vacationers underpin Bintan’s tourist-centric economy, effectively brought operations to a halt. Singapore did not fully lift border measures until 2023. But now, open for business once again, Saw hopes to attract everyone from young families to maritime history buffs.

The businessman clearly relishes giving visitors a seafaring experience. While giving CNN a tour around the boat, he repeatedly corrected language associated with conventional hotels: The employees here aren’t staff, they’re “crew.” Guests don’t sleep in rooms, these are “cabins.” This is not a floor, it’s a “deck.”

The ship may now be classified as a building, legally speaking, but Saw claims life here is so authentically ship-like that some guests even “feel a bit seasick, especially when they look out the portholes and see the waves.”

“But after some hours they get used to it,” he joked.

Saved from the scrapyard

Before Saw took ownership of the vessel in 2010, its future appeared bleak. MV Doulos was no longer considered seaworthy — and complying with new maritime regulations on passenger safety and fire prevention would have likely required millions of dollars in extra investment.

The boat’s former owner sent it to a Singapore dry dock to await bids from potential buyers. Among the interested parties were shipbreakers planning to dissemble the vessel for scrap metal, according to Saw. The businessman, who at the time operated a restaurant in a three-story Mississippi-style paddle steamer on Sentosa island, dreamed of turning the ship into a venture that could benefit Christian charitable causes. So, despite having no clear plan, he submitted a winning bid of 900,000 euros ($1.1 million).

This proved to be just a fraction of the project’s total cost. For more than three years, Saw hemorrhaged money on dockage fees and upkeep as he lobbied authorities in his native Singapore to provide a permanent site. Negotiations failed, so he looked further afield.

He found more receptive suitors in Bintan, in a resort enclave — a joint venture between the Indonesian and Singaporean governments — established in the 1990s. Having initially considered turning his boat into a floating hotel, Saw realized “maintenance would be a big headache.” So he proposed one on land instead.

A developer offered to reclaim more than three acres of land off Bintan’s north coast, where Saw could acquire a long-term lease. “I then had the temerity to ask for an anchor-shaped island, rather than just a rectangular piece of land,” he recalled with a smile.

His wish was granted, and construction of the artificial peninsula began in 2014. The ailing ship, meanwhile, had been towed — its engines were already decommissioned — to the neighboring island of Batam for refurbishment. But the greatest technical challenge was still to come: heaving the 6,800-ton vessel onto land.

In October 2015, the then-101-year-old MV Doulos Phos made its final ocean journey from Batam to Bintan. The seabed beside its final resting place was excavated to create a basin from which the vessel would be pulled ashore.

Reclaimed land often takes years, or even decades, to fully settle, so Saw’s engineers designed a 427-by-52-foot concrete platform — underpinned by piles driven into the bedrock, some deeper than 130 feet — on which the boat would rest.

With huge airbags acting as rollers, a series of mechanical winches began dragging the vessel more than 550 feet up a temporary slipway. The pull took seven “nail-biting” weeks, Saw said — more than three times as long as planned. Progress was, often, painfully slow: “On a good day, five meters; on a bad day, not even one meter.”

“As the process dragged on and on, I guess I was discouraged. But I always clung on to the hope that we must fulfill the vision that has been put in our hearts,” Saw said.

Retaining heritage

Gutting the ship and converting it into a five-star hotel presented another set of difficulties altogether. Reconfiguring the interiors required not only conventional architects but also naval architects to ensure the boat remained structurally sound.

“All her cabins were very small, very spartan,” said Saw, who strictly adheres to the maritime tradition of giving ships feminine pronouns. “And many of the portholes were just small little holes, placed up high because they didn’t want the water coming in. One cabin typically had two double bunks — so four people sharing one cabin.”

Major structural work saw fuel tanks and bulkheads removed to expand the cramped living quarters. Many of the hotel’s 93 cabins now feature large windows and are spread out over several compartments, costing between 1.7 million and 3.8 million Indonesian rupiah ($105 to $235) per night. New plumbing and electrical systems were installed throughout, as were elevators, fire escapes and other features needed to adhere to government building regulations.

Many vestiges of the ship’s seafaring past remain intact, however, from a claustrophobia-inducing propeller shaft to six original lifeboats hanging from pulleys on either side of the vessel. The old engine room, while defunct, has been left largely untouched and is open to visitors. A handful of original living quarters were also retained as “experience cabins,” while the ship’s upper decks are open to visitors, too. Saw said his guests like recreating Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet’s famous pose from “Titanic” on the boat’s forecastle.

The ship’s nautical interiors likewise nod to history. Original rivets salvaged from the refurbishment are a recurring feature on furniture and fittings. “We felt we could keep the heritage of the vessel,” said Saw, who affectionately refers to his ship as the “grand old lady of the seas.”

Saw claims every change made to the vessel is reversible, should a future owner wish to return it to the ocean. This possibility, while unlikely, is a testament to the original shipbuilders’ work, Saw said. “She can probably stay on for another 111 years,” he said, “but I’m not sure about myself!”

Rust was, and remains, a major challenge, however. “The rust issues are always there, even when you’re on land,” he said, adding: “If you start painting from the bow right to the stern, when you reach the stern it’s time to start again at the bow.”

But for Saw, this is more than a passion project or act of conservation — it’s a mission. He says he draws only a token $1 annual salary, with all the hotel’s operational profits going toward Christian charitable causes, regardless of whether he ever recoups his $18 million investment.

“She is nothing but a mass of steel,” he reflected. “It is what we do with her that gives meaning.”

Oscar Holland