Storied Ship Seeks a Finale

For decades it remained an elegant beauty, well-kept and world-traveled, the star of several men's dreams.

Today, it is a 2,600-ton rusting eyesore called the Faithful, anchored in Long Beach Harbor, unable to move unless towed.

The length of a football field, the ship has been stuck in port so long -- perhaps 18 years -- that, among the thousands who work and play in the nation's busiest shipping basin, tall tales abound and mystique surrounds it: Two homeless men and a garden hose keep it afloat. The shah of Iran once owned it. It has the engines of a World War II German submarine.

"I hear," said a security guard, gazing offshore at the gouged hulk, "that the cops think it's a crack den." His partner said: "We were told some missionaries own it but ... they went broke."

At least one of these legends is true. But then, the actual past of this vessel is as vivid as its lore.

"She has seen the world, and she has a certain ... oh, ambience to her," said a former owner, Tom Keegan of Florida, who was a merchant marine captain before a car crash left him in a wheelchair. Like a disquieted suitor, Keegan obsesses about the ship he lost a dozen years ago, and is well-versed in much of the history.

In 1955, the ship was built to ferry passengers around the Greek Islands, according to Keegan and ship references. It was built in Hamburg, Germany, by Blohm and Voss, makers of tall ships and warships, including submarines. Christened the Wappen von Hamburg, it had diesel engines.

And yes, Keegan said, those engines had been recycled from German U-boats, made about 1933.

In 1961, it became a luxury cruise ship called Delos. Over the years, it carried different names in different waters: Xanadu in the Mediterranean, Polar Star along the Alaskan coast and Oceanic and Faithful off California. It was never, Keegan said, the shah of Iran's yacht.

Long after the posh cruising days, he said, hints of opulence lingered: beveled-glass mirrors, murals and trees of brass that appeared to grow up its spiral staircases between decks.

After years of cruising the Alaskan coast, the ship was sold in 1981 for $6.5 million, according to a Times article, suggesting the vessel still had some miles to go.

The Seattle buyer renamed it Expex and brought it to Los Angeles. His plan was to transform it into a seafaring convention center that would visit 50 Third World ports to sell American goods.