Under a grey sky, clouded by heavy smoke, a young boy named Aristotle Onassis crammed on the bridge of a little boat. Unhelpfully cradled by the waves of the Aegean Sea, he stares at the horizon as his native town of Karatas is set ablaze. Tragically, the world will come to know September 1922 as the Smyrna Holocaust.

The port city of Smyrna is burning; fire and sword destroy the Armenian and Greek quarters of the town, recently captured by the Turkish Army, which commits atrocities such as looting, rape, and the slaughter of Christians—including his uncle. At 16, the son of a wealthy tobacco trader finds himself fleeing genocide, brought to safety on the Greek shores as a refugee, living in a camp like the many created today by war and poverty.
Aristotle leaves behind the luggage he had packed for Oxford University and dives into an ocean of unrest, gambles, luxury, and sensational drama. And above all—ships.

He reaches Argentina holding a Nansen passport for refugees, with a few hundred dollars in his pocket and a bucket of astuteness, ambition, and irresistible charisma. In a small room in Buenos Aires, ‘Ari’ has to take turns for a bed with his cousin. During the day he meets ‘the right people’ at a fancy yacht club, and at night he works shifts at a telephone company where he kills boredom by listening to international conversations. What a clever opportunity to practice foreign languages—and to eavesdrop on business ideas, making the most of them.

Passion is in the air in the streets of Buenos Aires. Rudolph Valentino, a Latin lover turned “The Sheik” on the silver screen, seduces global audiences with the puff of a cigarette that inflames the hearts of millions of women. Aristotle seizes the opportunity to cash in on the cinematic hysteria and the mania for the exotic Middle East: he launches his own brand of cigarettes with pink tips, targeting the female market, and turns it into a shipping business. Rolling drums now for his first million dollars: he is just 25.

If audentes fortuna iuvat (fortune favours the brave), Aristotle lived it fully. He learned the tricks of the shipping trade—and partied harder, flirting with the exclusive maritime elite. In his distinctive attire—tuxedo and cigar—he would join aristocrats, businessmen, and politicians sipping cocktails at the Savoy Hotel in London.
Onassis’s obsession with becoming a shipowner would steer the wheel of his future through any headwind. Strong nerves and sharp acumen helped him foresee business returns even amid global crises.

In 1932, he invested in six 10,000-ton freighters, which had become cheap due to the economic shock of the Great Depression.

Noticing the rising demand for oil- “the fuel of the future”—he built the first 15,000-ton tanker, nearly doubling the average size of vessels. The Ariston was launched as the largest tanker in the world and, of course, being Onassis, it came with a swimming pool to entertain his celebrity guests in belted swimsuits—a first for any ship.
When the Second World War came, while most Greek merchant ships working for the Allies (at $250,000 a year) were sunk, Onassis lost neither a vessel nor a sailor.

Onassis had two rules:

1. At work, you must be serious. At life, you must be crazy.
2. The one rule is: there are no rules.

The globetrotter could be seen living large in Paris, Buenos Aires, Monte Carlo and Montevideo. When he established himself in New York in 1940, he placed himself at the heart of post-war reconstruction—by ship. Armed with brains and cash, but lacking U.S. citizenship to realise his visionary plans, Onassis and his lawyers hunted for loopholes.

A rule-twister—not a rule-breaker—he founded a dummy corporation to buy 6 Liberty ships and 4 surplus tankers. He would soon profit from the 1947 winter fuel crisis.
His ships, operated at low cost and mostly sailed tax-free under Panamanian and Liberian flags, became the pillars of his ever-growing fortune.
Onassis nearly disrupted the entire global oil industry when he turned his sights to Saudi Arabia, then dominated by the American consortium ARAMCO.
He almost secured a historic transport deal with the inexperienced Saudi King—but his rival Stavros Niarchos, collaborating with the FBI and U.S. government, thwarted it.

Onassis was forced to retreat. The American monopoly stood.

While his maritime empire filled textbooks, Onassis had a mistress in the sky.
He founded Olympic Airways after obtaining a contract from the Greek government that granted him exclusive rights to the national airline.
It was the golden age of Greek aviation—and another personal milestone. Onassis became one of only two people in the world, and the first non-American, to own a private airline.

At his desk in Monaco, as the sea breeze ripples the curtains, Onassis gazes at the harbour where his newly finished $2.5 million yacht lies at anchor.
Named Christina O. after his beloved daughter, the 99.13-meter yacht showcases an unparalleled level of post-war European luxury.
Marble balustrades, golden island maps, dolphin-shaped taps. Guests like Winston Churchill, Umberto Agnelli, Eva Perón, Frank Sinatra and Elizabeth Taylor dance above a mosaic pool that converts into a nightclub.
This was home. And often, alone at night with a whisky on the bridge, Aristotle would dream up new ventures as the laughter of his guests faded into dawn.

With magnetic charm and extravagant generosity, Onassis captivated stars from Veronica Lake to Greta Garbo. But marriage was another matter. His wife had to be Greek—and preferably wealthy. At 40, he married Athina “Tina” Livanos, daughter of another shipping magnate. They had two children: Christina and Alexander.

But it was aboard the Christina O. that he truly fell - again. His love affair with opera diva Maria Callas became one of the most iconic and scandalous relationships in modern history. She left her husband for him. He never proposed. Their passions clashed.
After nine tempestuous years, Callas was replaced by the only other woman capable of matching his grandeur: Jacqueline Kennedy. In 1968, the world’s most famous widow became Jackie O, marrying the world’s richest shipowner in a small ceremony on his private island, Skorpios.

There would be no fairy-tale ending.

In the final years, Greek superstition crept in. Many - including Onassis himself - believed Jackie brought misfortune. Her lavish lifestyle and towering shopping bills alienated him. But the real blow came in 1973.
His adored son Alexander, an accomplished pilot, died in a plane crash in Athens at age 25.
Onassis never recovered. He passed away just two years later, suffering complications from myasthenia gravis. His funeral cortege passed through his father’s native fishing village. The coffin, crafted from Skorpios walnut trees, was honoured by a flotilla of boats.

Beside him on the island now lie Alexander—and Christina, who passed away at 38 after years of depression and substance abuse.

At just three years old, Christina’s daughter from her fourth unhappy marriage inherited the Onassis fortune - becoming the wealthiest child in the world.
Today, Athina is a professional equestrian worth over $1 billion. Divorced already, she carries the same features and melancholic gaze of her mother and grandfather.

A glorious dynasty, quietly fading. Extreme riches and tempestuous love affairs brought the curtain down on a modern Greek tragedy.