Another Victim of Island Syndrome

When we moved into our 1987-era house in one of the Plantations on Hilton Head Island, we had a budget for improvements, but little did we realize the prowess and perseverance needed to endure the process.

I still have nightmares about it.

I had talked to my new neighbors about different things my house needed (update kitchen, replace flooring, replace original deck) and had made a list of potential contractors or skilled handymen or women. Once I started setting up appointments I realized I was in pretty deep doo-doo.

After interviewing four different contractors and digesting wildly varying estimates and suggestions, I was confused. Should I go with the least expensive, and risk a poorly done job, or go with the one in the middle? Should I accept the most expensive option and believe it will be the best job? Who do I trust?

In the end, I did what I always do—I figured out the cheapest way to go without sacrificing quality. The only problem with this strategy was that I didn’t factor in Island Syndrome.

After three months of noise, dust, and chaos, this is what I have learned about Island Syndrome:

Most contractors and their employees are on “Island time.” As a newbie to the island, I did not foresee this wrinkle. I came from the Baltimore/DC area where everything is ratcheted down. “Island time” means “This job will take three to six weeks. Maybe six months. Be prepared for the painter/electrician/tile people/plumber to arrive at anytime between 8:30 a.m. and 3 p.m. Do not require us to call first, or give you any hint of when we will be there, because that will be annoying. Just put your life on hold for the duration, and when it is done, it is done. Got it?”

 

Well, it took a little time for my temper tantrums to abate, but I got used to it. Eventually, I left my doors unlocked, told them to help themselves to snacks and water, and shut myself in my bedroom, the only area of the house devoid of remodeling activity.

2. The more deeply entrenched in Island Syndrome, the less serious the estimate. It isn’t real, was never real, and when the time comes to pay the invoice, the contractor is oh-so-terribly sad that those unforeseen complications came up, but these things happen, he says with a smile. Silly me, I thought estimates were actually, um—realistic.

3. Island Syndrome includes creative excuses about why the plumbing/electric/painting/ was not done correctly or on time. These excuses are delivered with practiced hangdog expressions, somber voices, and slumped shoulders. There is no way one can argue with someone exhibiting this behavior. At least I couldn’t. I asked them if they wanted a cookie.

4. One of the many reasons for Island Syndrome is an overabundance of home improvement needs and an underabundance of competent, reliable personnel. I was amazed when I got four different estimates on my deck, four different stories about what was needed, and four crazy expensive prices for what I considered an easy afternoon of replacing about half the boards on a small deck, power washing, and staining. After listening to all the incredibly negative and time-consuming reasons the repair would be so expensive, I decided none of their ideas or approaches were worth considering and tore the whole thing out and put in a paver patio with a guy that was satisfyingly competent and gave me a working schedule and an estimate that was fair and did not change. But it took me FIVE ESTIMATES to connect with one reliable guy.

5. Island Syndrome often infects the skilled laborer/plumber/electrician/contractor with the inability to call or text back after a consumer’s repeated attempts to get in touch. Apparently, they are so in demand that they are unable to respond in a timely manner—or at all.

5. Island Syndrome exhausts the consumer. By the time Island Syndrome had eaten up my time, money, and patience, I needed an indefinite amount of time to recover. Maybe the rest of my life.

6. Over time, Island Syndrome may cause Island Remodeling Fatigue, a condition consisting of remodel aversion, panic attacks when someone mentions the word “contractor,” and an automatic protective hand over one’s wallet or purse.

As a newcomer to Hilton Head Island, and a recent victim of Island Syndrome, perhaps I should think about starting a recovery group.

Sharing our stories with each other would help, I think.

 

 

Disclaimer: This blog post is an exaggeration for the sake of humor not meant to offend or otherwise discredit those wonderful workers that did actually help me in my often panic-stricken state during my remodel. To those people, thank you.