The ship almost looks like it belongs in the neighbourhood, swept miles inland almost five years ago after a cataclysmic earthquake spawned the worst tsunami known to mankind.
Local touts in Banda Aceh escort tourists around the 2,600-tonne PLTD Apung I, recalling a sunny Sunday morning on December 26, 2004 when the earth shook for almost 10 minutes.
As people ran in panic from their homes, waves taller than the palm trees in their yards and speeding across the ocean as fast as a jet plane crashed into lives here on the western tip of Indonesia's Sumatra island and around the Indian Ocean rim, killing at least 226,00 people.
Former US Secretary of State Colin Powell, flying over Banda Aceh in January 2005, said the city looked like it had "just been hit by a nuclear weapon. Completely flattened". In fact, the 9.15 quake, second-most powerful ever recorded, hit with a force equal to 1,500 times the Hiroshima atomic bomb.
When I last came here four years ago, the ship sat like a hulking horror amid rubble as far as the eye could see. Survivors huddled in tents nearby cared for by charities.
Now, the view from the top deck of the ship is of tidy new neighbourhoods built with some of the €4.6 billion that poured into Aceh. Children play on swings in the Tsunmai Education Park next to it.
Salawati is among those who have put their lives back together, in some ways better than before. When Reuters first met her days after the tsunami, she and her extended family were living in tents pitched on the rubble of their homes on the family compound. Two of her three children died in the tsunami.
Her surviving son had recurring nightmares that another giant wave would come and wipe out the family. Those have now subsided.
The UN Human settlements programme rebuilt their homes. The Indonesian reconstruction agency brought her to Jakarta for food industry training. Now she makes a shredded fish product that Indonesians like to mix with their rice.
"Mine is number one in Aceh," she says, producing a certificate that attests to that. "I have a big dream of exporting throughout Indonesia, even abroad."
She's not so proud of the house, which at 36 square metres is smaller than her old one. Another house on the compound, built by an Indonesian housing agency, looks decidedly rickety, which is why a relative who was supposed to move into it is still renting.
It's a common refrain in Aceh. Everyone is impressed with the roads, the offices, the schools and the mosques that have been built. Not that many seem to like their houses, no matter how nice they appear.
The Turkish Red Cross built hundreds of tidy houses with cute gardens in the coastal town of Lampuuk, known as the place where the tsunami travelled the furthest inland - some seven kilometres until it smacked into steep hillsides that once showed wave marks 10 metres high.
Bill Clinton and former President George H.W. Bush came here and raised money for the town, whose only structure left standing was the 125-year-old Baiturrahim mosque.
On this day, a long line of dump trucks snaked through the main street, renamed "the Bill Clinton/George Bush Road", building new roads for the town, which has new village offices, a school, clinic, convenience store and gift shop.
The houses have toilets and running water. The mosque has been beautifully restored. People here seem much better off than most places I've visited in Indonesia.
But while the physical debris has been cleared, the emotional wreckage remains for some. At a traditional roadside coffee shop, a handful of young men feel a bit at loose ends. Almost none of them have jobs, none are married.
The tsunami killed a disproportionate number of women, few of whom could swim, encumbered by the sarongs they were wearing, and trying futilely for the most part to hold onto the hands of their children as they ran from the waves.
The stunning television pictures of a phenomenon almost nobody had ever seen, coming a day after Christmas, and killing thousands of Western tourists on sun-drenched beaches prompted an unprecedented outpouring of charity from across the world. Governments, aid agencies and individuals pledged €4.8 billion for Indonesia alone, and remarkably, €4.6 billion was disbursed - and used effectively by all accounts - in a country that ranks near the bottom of world corruption rankings.
The biggest task was building permanent homes for the 635,384 people displaced by the December 26 disaster and another big earthquake that hit western Sumatra three months later.