the roof, he was able to create an entire loft space for his three sons to enjoy as their own bedroom area. Then Sweeney replaced all of the windows and added a sliding glass door to the home, significantly increasing the amount of natural light entering the room. He added closet space where there was none to be had, and basically reconfigured the entire studio area for maximum usability and practicality. He created a wondrous eat-in kitchen and added a sleeper sofa, to be used as a living room corner during the day and a place where he and his wife could sleep soundly in the evenings. “I always said I would eventually put in a vertical Murphy wall bed,” Thom chuckles, “but I never really got around to it!” And that atrocious orange linoleum flooring? Replaced all around by beautiful vintage wood-mimicking tile flooring. Last but not least, that affectionate name plaque that hung from their old boat, Poor Helen, was lovingly draped right over the front door of their new LBI sanctuary. The décor inside of the shack is beachy, without any overly nautical or surfer typecasts. The look is beachmeets-boho; sun-washed chic wood and entwined, earthy accents paired with a nearly white palette and
pops of blues and seafoam green. Every piece of décor in the home was handpicked by Thom, whether discovered at a vintage market or while browsing antique sales in his spare time. There are woven lamp shades evocative of Bali paired with lobster buoys on one wall, and a turtle decoy reminiscent of the Galapagos Islands on the other end near an old-fashioned sign that reads, “Due to the small space, items left over 60 days will be sold.” “It’s like an uptown fishing shack,” Sweeney concludes. Officially a historical landmark of Long Beach Island, the Sweeneys’ home was actually a fishing shack at one point in the early 1900s. There was another building, a fishery, adjacent to what is now their present-day home, so the belief is that the shack was used more as a storage shed by the fishery for all of their netting and gear, as well as a bunkhouse for the fishermen themselves. Interestingly enough, Thom reveals that an elderly man approached his son, Reed, during their early days as the new homeowners of the property to share his own anecdotes of yonder years: the man’s father recalled lobster fishing in the area in the 1920s and then selling the crustaceans to Rikers Island, since lobster was significantly cheaper than beef to feed the prisoners. Any lobsters the
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