Bathroom remodeling in Portland, Maine, usually means a small bath in an older peninsula house that spends nor'easters getting wet from outside and the rest of the winter staying damp. West End brick and East End wood both hide plaster, tight stairs, and a stack that serves a floor below. A leak at the tub becomes a ceiling downstairs before you have chosen a tile. Fans that never leave the building keep the casing wet in a climate that already delivers spray and fog. Say the floor and the neighborhood.
A window in the shower is a rot path, faster on Munjoy and the prom where the wall takes wind-driven rain. Tile that sounds hollow has let go. The floor may slope and the joists may be notched. A cast-iron tub and a turning stair do not agree. Moving the toilet off the stack opens the ceiling below. Keeping the fixture put is often the whole trick. Look under the sink and at the ceiling beneath before you call the job cosmetic.
Galvanized branches run rusty, and new finishes will not clear them. Pressure in an old house drops when another fixture draws. A line moved into an outside wall can freeze the night after a coastal storm knocks the heat around and the wind stays on that wall. Mention the heat in the room. If this is the only bath, it has to stay usable. A closet turned into a shower still needs a vent that reaches daylight rather than the joist bay.
Soft subfloor means the leak is older than the project. Slow drains may be a vent or a stack that several floors share. Basement baths on low streets near the water need an honest talk about backup before they are rebuilt. Most peninsula calls are old stacks in old houses, not wells. If you are farther out in the city on a different system, say so. The nor'easter is relevant when it wets the wall the bath is in. Otherwise describe the fixture.
Describe the neighborhood, the floor, and any stain below. List a crumbling sill, a fan that dies in the wall, or a stack you share. Say if the room must stay in use. Call the number on this page.