A former nuclear power plant sits quietly within the Port of Baltimore.

Built in the decades after World War II, the NS Savannah was powered by an onboard nuclear reactor as a symbol of the nondestructive capabilities of atomic energy.

Long retired, the Savannah is a hidden gem in Baltimore — berthed next to the container ships that regularly call on Seagirt Marine Terminal. Its days in Charm City, however, could be numbered.

The vessel has not sailed under its own power in a half-century, but it regularly attracts the nautical and nuclear curious, eager to get a glimpse of the rarity that is, at once, a portal to the past and the future. Its midcentury modern aesthetics would make Austin Powers feel at home, and its design speaks to a time when a sci-fi future felt within reach.

During the 1960s, the liner-sized, yacht-shaped ship delivered goods, passengers and the message of nuclear energy, but it was costly to operate and was taken out of service in 1971. It was named a National Historic Landmark in 1991 and has been parked in Baltimore since 2008, when the owner of Pier 13 submitted a low bid to the federal government.

In 2022, key parts of its nuclear reactor were removed and taken by train to a disposal site in Utah. That means the Savannah is almost ready to be formally decommissioned and offloaded, possibly to an owner who would relocate it.

The U.S. Maritime Administration, which owns the ship, is accepting proposals from interested parties. It could become anything from a corporate headquarters to an event space.

One group has pitched it as a museum in Savannah, Georgia. Another suggests it stay in Baltimore as part of a ship trio promoting the maritime workforce.

Volunteers with the nonprofit NS Savannah Association preserve and promote the ship, which occasionally opens to visitors who can roam the 596-foot vessel, including the below-deck area that housed the nuclear reactor.

“I’ve been coming aboard regularly since 2016, and every time I come up the gangway, it’s still a thrill,” said Bob Adams, president of the volunteer association.

The Maritime Administration did not respond to requests for comment, but Adams said the government is expected to convey the ship this year. The new owner would take over its maintenance costs, likely at least hundreds of thousands of dollars annually.

Adams said he supports any outcome that preserves the ship.

The SS United States, a huge, historic ocean liner built in the early 1950s, is slated to be sunk off the coast of the Florida Panhandle to create the world’s largest artificial reef. Adams hopes his beloved Savannah can avoid a similar “watery grave.”

During an open house in November, more than 400 visitors wandered the ship’s midcentury dining area, its tight hallways and a control room straight out of a Hollywood set. They browsed plaques and news clippings, chronicling the ship’s place in Cold War history. “Atoms for Peace,” read entrance signage.

“Don’t flip any switches,” volunteer Cory Breaux said during a cheery safety briefing.

That day, Peter Gottschalk was aboard one of his favorite vessels for the first time. He owns about 5,000 miniature ship models, all displayed in his basement in Connecticut. That includes four models of the Savannah, one that’s roughly 3 feet long.

A religion professor at Wesleyan University, Gottschalk took a train to Baltimore to tour the nooks and crannies of the “beautiful ship” he has long cherished.

Ships are often built for practical purposes — commercial or warfare — and they can’t usually afford style over substance, he said. The Savannah is a triumphant exception.

“This vessel was made to be, really, a symbol of the promise of a better tomorrow,” he said, standing next to a wavy, orange couch in the reception area.

Gottschalk has “crawled” through dozens of museum ships in the U.S. and Europe and said he’s never seen one with such knowledgeable volunteers.

He half-brought, half-dragged a college friend, Michael De Vinne, to the ship, too. De Vinne has lived in Baltimore since the 1990s, but the closest he’d previously been to the port, he said, was watching HBO’s “The Wire.”

While many Baltimoreans may not know about the nuclear ship in their backyard, it has attracted maritime aficionados from all over. One volunteer travels from North Carolina, and Adams said visitors have come from Europe.

Lisa Guppy, a Virginia resident who has a penchant for urban exploration, said she was drawn to visit a place that often isn’t open to the public.

“I read that this was like a time capsule, and I do like the midcentury decor and style of the place,” she said.

The NS (which stands for Nuclear Ship) Savannah’s namesake is the SS Savannah, the first steamship to cross the Atlantic, embarking from Savannah, Georgia.

An informal coalition of Savannah residents wants to move the ship south and make it a floating museum and special events venue at a slip next to the Savannah Convention Center, according to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Another group wants to keep the NS Savannah nearby, at the Baltimore Peninsula, as part of a trio of ships promoting maritime education, to offer workforce development.

In a proposal to the government, Curtis P. Junker described the Savannah as “a turnkey-ready, full-service attraction, educational center and nuclear museum.”

Other interested parties may emerge.

After touring the nuclear ship in November, Eric Jenkins paused to face its bow and sketch a pencil-and-paper rendering. He called it the best thing he’s seen in Baltimore.

Jenkins, a Baltimore-based architect, came of age in the 1960s and has long been fascinated by midcentury modern style. After the war, there was a great deal of optimism, and all aspects of the ship, he said, evoked that vision.

“It brings me hope,” he said. “And I hope it continues.”