A small third-floor attic became the teenage daughter’s room. The early-20th-century hooked rug is American. The chest of drawers is a 1950s George Nelson piece. The tie-dyed bedspread is from Garnet Hill.
Blue paint (Benjamin Moore #2066-30) framing the screens on the porch and all the windows gives the house a lift, as does the vibrantly colored sofa. The oval extension table is Touquet from Triconfort; around it are Also chairs by Tom Deacon. A spirited mix of pillows and lanterns adds more color.  
The uncomplicated outdoor shower shelter consists of two sheets of red sailcloth hung from sailor's rope. For more details, see Resources.
   
These design decisions weren’t necessarily made to save money. “New construction is always much easier and cheaper,” says Pennoyer. “The contractors couldn’t just put wires and plumbing wherever they wanted and hide things in insulated walls.” To do this sort of work, Pennoyer claims, the builders had to love the hold house. “If the cottage had been ugly, we wouldn’t have preserved it this way.” Jayne adds. “When something was attractive and could be preserved – like the funky window seat in the living room—we did so. Basically, my clients didn’t want to make the house grander than it was.”

And grand it is not. But the ingenious carpentry and craftsmanship give the space the feel of a fine wooden sailing yacht. Some family members have to duck theirs heads when going through certain doorways, and there are not auditory secrets – if someone enters the house or goes up the stairs, everyone hears it. Then again, other sounds are more easily savored: the crashing of ocean waves, for example, or the caterwauling of seagulls. “There’s an ancient tradition of people going to the sea,” Jayne says, “and every season when you hit the beach, it’s almost like a rebirth. You want stability, repetition, history . . .but you want it fresh.”