That bit about sand sneaking into the coffee maker made me laugh—been there, and I still don’t know how it happens. I’ve found that with older homes near the coast, you can’t really overestimate what moisture will do. I learned the hard way that “good enough” insulation just isn’t, especially when you’re dealing with salty air and those wild humidity swings.
Now I just pad the budget by at least 20% for “surprises.” Still never seems quite enough, but it helps me sleep a little better...
I usually tell folks to expect at least 25-30% over whatever the initial estimate is, especially if the house has any age on it. The hidden stuff—old wiring, rot behind trim, weird plumbing from the 60s—always seems to pop up. Curious, did you run into any issues with old framing or foundation work? That’s where most of my “surprises” have come from, and it’s never cheap.
The hidden stuff—old wiring, rot behind trim, weird plumbing from the 60s—always seems to pop up.
You nailed it with the “weird plumbing from the 60s.” I once opened up a wall and found a tangle of pipes that looked like a game of Twister gone wrong. Honestly, I think people underestimate how much those “little” surprises add up, especially when you want to do things right. I’d argue that even 30% might be conservative if you’re aiming for modern standards and coastal durability. And don’t get me started on foundation work—one client’s place had footings that were basically just wishful thinking. It’s wild what you find once you peel back the layers.
Title: Budgeting for Surprises—But How Much Is Too Much?
I get where you’re coming from—those “hidden” issues can snowball fast, especially in older coastal places. But I’m not totally sold on the idea that you always need to pad the budget by 30% or more. I’ve done a few beach house renos (some DIY, some with pros), and while the surprises are real, I’ve found that a lot depends on how much you’re willing to investigate up front.
One thing that’s helped me: spend a bit more time (and maybe money) on the inspection phase. If you can, open up a few walls or check crawlspaces before you start swinging hammers. Sometimes just pulling a few baseboards or poking around with a flashlight can give you a better sense of what’s lurking. It’s not foolproof, but it’s saved me from at least one “Twister pipes” scenario.
Also, not every old thing needs to be gutted and replaced. For example, I found some 70s copper plumbing that looked sketchy but was actually fine after a pressure test and some new fittings. Same with some old knob-and-tube wiring—sometimes you can isolate and bypass rather than rip out everything. If you’re methodical about what really needs updating for code or safety, you might keep costs closer to your original estimate.
On the other hand, if you’re dealing with salt air and storms, yeah, you probably want to overbuild a bit. But I’d say rather than just slapping on a big percentage, try to break down the likely trouble spots—foundation, roof, electrical, plumbing—and assign a contingency to each. That way, if you get lucky in one area, you’re not automatically overspending in another.
It’s definitely a gamble, but I think there’s a middle ground between “budget for disaster” and “hope for the best.” Sometimes a little detective work up front goes a long way... and sometimes, well, you just find out the hard way.
I totally get where you’re coming from about not needing to gut everything—sometimes people go overboard and rip out perfectly good materials just because they’re “old.” I’d add that, from a design perspective, some of those original features (like vintage tile or old hardwoods) can actually add so much character if you work with them instead of against them. I do agree that a detailed inspection is worth every penny, but I’d still argue for a healthy contingency fund, especially for finishes. Salt air does weird things to paint and hardware, and it’s easy to underestimate how much you’ll want to refresh once you start seeing the transformation. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you see what’s possible… and that’s where budgets can get creative (or spiral).
I keep hearing about the salt air being a wildcard, and that’s honestly the part that stresses me out the most. Like, I’m super detail-oriented, so I want to plan for every possible thing, but it seems like you just can’t predict how much stuff you’ll end up needing to replace once you start opening things up. I’m all for keeping the old hardwoods—those are usually way better quality than new ones anyway—but what about stuff like windows and door hardware? Did anyone here actually manage to salvage those, or did the corrosion make it a lost cause?
And on the finishes, I get what you mean about budgets spiraling. I went into this thinking I could just “freshen up” the paint, but after seeing how much the light changes everything in the space, I’m now rethinking all my color choices. Has anyone found a good way to estimate those kinds of “unexpected upgrades” without just throwing a random percentage at it?
