The scent of butter and Old Bay waft through the air as Jo Ricks sautés oysters in the airy kitchen of her 1941 waterman’s cottage. Sunlight pours through the windows, which overlook the Potomac River, giving the kitchen’s varnished fir cabinets a toasty, yellow glow.

“Island House,” the couple’s cozy weekend home on St. George Island in St. Mary’s County, where they escape to from their hectic lives in Washington, D.C., is
a far cry from what it was when they bought it at auction in October 1993. “It was disgusting and dirty,” says her husband, Jeff Clark, who travels worldwide for international USAID development programs, “and the downstairs was chopped into seven tiny rooms, each the size of a bathroom. It was really quite ridiculous.”

But the price was right, and they loved the location, the views, and the proximity to their Washington neighbors, who also have a weekend home on the crab-claw-shaped island. The auction was held on the front lawn and drew many interested buyers—including the son of the man who had built the house—and ended with the couple winning the bidding war.

With a limited budget to fix up the place, they did “all the things I warn people not to do,” says Jo, a real estate broker with Washington D.C.-based City Houses—including hiring a contractor without calling his references. Eight years after the work was completed, cabinets started pulling off the walls, and the front porch began to cave in. “Things weren’t done well,” says Jeff. “We learned that when you hire someone on the cheap, you end up spending twice as much to fix it.”

In 2003, the couple brought in Annapolis architect Wayne Good to convert the sagging front porch into an all-season room; the floor, walls, and ceiling were fashioned in fir and fitted with French casement windows for a fully screened-in porch. (The previous year, Good had designed their cathedral-ceilinged pool house, outfitted with a combination sitting/sleeping room and bath.)

Good also upgraded the home’s exterior. “Overall, we were looking for a way
to give the house architectural character,” Good says, which he achieved in spades by transforming the second story open-air deck into a sheltered, shaded porch, topped with gables, which mirror those on the pool house, and simplistically ornate framing. White board-and-batten siding of plywood and mahogany, hung vertically, replaced the previous vinyl and reinforced the overall design elements of the exterior design.

Drive down the island’s main road, and you can’t miss the house, with its front wall of windows and contemporary lines. It’s an enchanting place, but making it so wasn’t easy—and might not have happened without Hurricane Isabel.

In September 2003, a few months after the porch was completed, Isabel hit
the island hard. It appeared to do little damage to the couple’s property, but in November, they realized that the downstairs floor, which sat over a six-inch crawl space, was spongy.

“I visited one night, and when I put my foot on the floor, it was so damp I thought
I stepped in a puddle of water,” says Good, who also owns a house on the island. As moisture wicked up the walls and mildew started to grow, they realized they had no choice but to totally redo the bottom level. “Early on, we didn’t expect to spend so much time here, but as the years passed, the pull grew stronger,” says Jeff. “We wanted to do things right this time.”

Working with Mike Adams of Valley Lee-based A&A Construction, they gutted the entire first floor. Adams installed a vapor barrier and concrete slab between the ground and the house to keep water from seeping underneath then added radiant floor heat. While they were at it, Good also planned out an extensive interior renovation, which included a seven-foot addition on the back, creating space for a new, more centrally located staircase as well as a guestroom and extra bathroom.

“Now the house really stands out,” he says, “yet it’s evocative of the local vernacular architecture on the island.”

The new start allowed them to inject an open feel into their downstairs floor plan—a combination kitchen, living room, and dining area—decorated by Washington-based interior designer Jerry Copeland. Respectful of the architecture, Copeland made sure that the décor was comfortable but spare, almost recessive. The result is a paired down, clutter-free look that’s both elegant and cottage-like.

In the kitchen, countertops of honed gray granite quietly pop against the stainless steel Thermador oven and stove. The refrigerator doors, paneled with fir facades, blend with the golden-stained fir walls, ceiling, and cabinetry. At the L-shaped end of the kitchen counter, Jo had a workspace incorporated into the design, where she completes weekend real estate transactions.

The wood tone extends into the living room, with its nautical touches complemented by fir exposed beams and custom-made fir cabinets on either side of the mantle. These add convenient but handsome storage to the cozy space centered around a slate fireplace. “In the winter, my favorite spot is sitting in front of the fireplace,” says Jo.
The rear addition was made functional with a gray slate floor entryway and plenty of windows, which light up the space like a cathedral. The new staircase leads to a narrow guestroom (dubbed the “bunkroom”), which holds a day bed, set in a graceful antique French, wrought-iron frame, perfect for rainy-day naps. Down the hallway is the master and guest bedroom, both of which open onto the upstairs deck, the perfect spot, Jo notes, for sipping a cocktail while the sun sets.

On this sunny late spring afternoon, Jo scoops the fried oysters from the pan as Jeff pops open a bottle of champagne for their guests, neighbors Martha and Steve Holder, here for brunch. Perched on rush-topped wooden stools at the breakfast bar, which divides the kitchen and dining area, they talk of things they’ve seen on the river, including Andrew Lloyd Webber’s yacht, Evita, and the Dove, a replica of the square-rigger that carried Maryland’s first settlers from England to St. Clements Island in 1633.
“This place is the barrier between work and non-work,” says Jeff, who loves to spend summer days by the pool or on their twenty-five-foot sport fishing boat. “My
job is so intense, I could be there all the time. I guess D.C. is where we make money,
and St. George Island is where we spend it.”

Vicki Meade writes from her home in Eastport.