how much should I budget to renovate a beach house?

Title: How much should I budget to renovate a beach house?

Salt air is such a sneaky beast, isn’t it? I totally get the urge to plan for every little thing, but honestly, with these old houses by the water, you just have to accept a bit of mystery. I tried to save as much original hardware as I could—some of it cleaned up beautifully with a little elbow grease and patience, but a few pieces were just too far gone. Sometimes you don’t know until you’re holding it in your hand, and that’s part of the adventure (or headache, depending on the day).

I’m with you on the hardwoods. If they’re solid, keep them. The character is irreplaceable. Windows are trickier. I managed to salvage a few sashes, but the hardware was mostly toast. If you’re attached to the look, there are some decent reproduction options out there that blend in pretty well.

As for budgeting for those “surprise” upgrades... I wish there was a magic formula. I tried spreadsheets, color-coded lists, the works. In the end, I just set aside a chunk (about 20% of my total) as a contingency, but honestly, I still went over. The light in these places really does mess with paint colors—what looked warm and cozy in the store turned icy blue in my living room. I ended up repainting twice. If you can, get samples up on every wall and live with them for a few days before committing.

It’s stressful, but there’s something kind of special about uncovering what’s been hiding under layers of paint and salt. You’ll probably end up making a few calls on the fly, but that’s part of what makes it yours in the end. Hang in there—it’s worth it when you see the place come back to life.

I get the appeal of keeping original hardware, but honestly, sometimes it’s just not worth the hassle. I’ve spent hours trying to salvage corroded hinges and handles, only to end up replacing them anyway. That “adventure” can turn into a money pit fast.

About the budget—

I just set aside a chunk (about 20% of my total) as a contingency, but honestly, I still went over.

Totally get where you’re coming from—old hardware is like a box of chocolates, except half of them are rusty and the rest are missing. I’ve tried to save original stuff before, thinking I’d be all historic and thrifty, but after three trips to the hardware store and a tetanus shot, I just started budgeting for replacements.

On the budget side, 20% contingency is optimistic for a beach house. Salt air finds ways to destroy things you didn’t even know could rot. I usually plan for 30% too, but honestly, sometimes it still isn’t enough. Last time, I found out the “solid” subfloor was basically driftwood. Fun times.

And yeah, paint colors... I swear every shade looks different at the beach. Picked a nice gray once—looked blue in the morning and purple by sunset. You’re not alone in that struggle. Hang in there—it’s chaos, but it’s worth it when you’re done.

Man, you nailed it with the “box of chocolates” thing. I’ve been there, prying up old floorboards and wondering if I should just throw in the towel and start over. The salt air is relentless—stuff that would last decades inland just crumbles after a few seasons at the beach. I used to think I could outsmart it with sealants and elbow grease, but honestly, some things are just not worth salvaging.

I agree, 20% contingency is wishful thinking. Even 30% sometimes feels like rolling the dice. Last year I thought I was being clever by reusing some “vintage” doors… turns out termites had already claimed them as their summer home. Ended up spending more trying to fix than if I’d just replaced them from the start. Now, if something looks even remotely sketchy, it goes straight to the scrap pile.

That paint color struggle is so real. Natural light at the beach does weird things—I once painted a room what was supposed to be a sandy beige, but it looked kind of greenish in the afternoon and almost pink at night. Made me question my own eyes for a while.

But yeah, despite all the surprises (and there are always more than you expect), there’s nothing like kicking back on the porch when it’s all done and knowing you made it through. It’s chaos for sure, but somehow that makes it even more satisfying when you finally get to enjoy it. Hang in there—the headaches fade way faster than you’d think once you’re watching that sunset with your feet up.

I agree, 20% contingency is wishful thinking. Even 30% sometimes feels like rolling the dice.

I get where you’re coming from about tossing anything “sketchy,” but I’ve actually had some luck restoring older woodwork, even in salty air. With the right epoxy consolidant and a good borate treatment, sometimes you can save pieces that look too far gone. It’s not always cost-effective, but for original trim or unique details, it can be worth the extra effort. Maybe I’m stubborn, but I hate sending good wood to the landfill if there’s a shot at saving it.

And on contingency—30% feels high to me unless you’re opening up walls everywhere. If you do a thorough inspection up front (moisture meter, termite probe, all that), you can sometimes keep surprises to a minimum. Not always, but it helps.