Roofing in Miami is hurricane wind plus salt, acting on tile and flat roofs more often than on a simple shingle suburb. Barrel tile can look intact from the street while the fasteners underneath have rusted and the underlayment has turned brittle. Wind does not need to remove the tile you notice. It needs to lift an edge, crack a hip, or open a valley. Start with the neighborhood exposure, the material, and whether you are calling about a leak, a storm scar, or a covering that is used up.
Flat and low-slope roofs are the other Miami roof, common on mid-century houses and on additions. They fail at seams, scuppers, and the parapet, then show up as a stain in a ceiling that is nowhere near an obvious hole. A pond that sits after a storm is a clue. So is a patchwork of coatings. Shingle roofs exist here too, and the sun cooks them, but if you are under tile or a built-up flat, say that first. Salt air also eats flashing, nails, and any exposed metal cap that was casual about the coast.
Do not let a tear-off start before the slopes are documented, especially if a claim is open. Photos of hips, ridges, and punctures matter while the pieces are still up there. A dry-in is a stopgap. A replacement is a different scope: deck, underlayment, fastening, flashing, and how the edges are tied down for the next real blow. Ask which of those is actually in the work. Wind that opened the roof is not flood. Water that rose from the street into the house is not a roofing sentence.
From the ground, say whether you see slipped tile, a soft spot in a ceiling, granules, or a parapet that overflows. From the attic, say whether daylight shows at the deck. Mention if the house is a block house with a steep tile roof or a low house with a flat one. Mention balconies and roof decks if people walk on the membrane. You do not need a perfect diagnosis to start. Call the number on this page.