Website rescue: restore what worked. Make it stay working.
Your site stopped showing up on Google. A redesign launched and inquiries went quiet. A migration finished and every old link now errors. Most "dead" websites aren't gone, they're disconnected: the content still exists, and nothing points at it anymore. A rescue reconnects it, in a set order, without blame and without a rebuild.
The building didn't move. The rooms got renumbered.
Google's directory still lists the old room numbers. Follow one and you hit a wall. Walk in through the lobby instead and everything works, because the building's own signs were updated. That's why the site "works for you" and not for the people Google sends. A rescue puts Google's numbers back.
Three ways a working site goes dark
The move that lost the addresses
The site moved hosts or platforms, and every URL search engines know now errors. The content survived the move. The addresses didn't.
The launch that went blank
The new site looks finished in the editor and in your browser. Search engines are served an empty page. Rankings drain while everything looks fine.
The contract that expired
A website platform's term ends and the site becomes a snapshot of itself. Pages still render; forms, maps, and search connections quietly die.
Nobody has to be at fault for any of these. Migrations are genuinely hard, platforms end when contracts end, and editors show you a page search engines never see. Rescues here are no-fault by design: I work from what's in front of me, and I put what I find in writing.
A rescue runs in a set order
A rescue starts with the 90-second audit and ends where Platform Care begins. Restoration means your design and content stay untouched; improvements are their own conversation, after.
Priced from the diagnosis, not from a menu
Scoped per project
Every rescue is priced from the diagnosis, in writing, before work starts. No hourly meter. Restoration only: anything you want changed or improved is quoted separately, so the rescue number never quietly grows.
I write these up as they happen
Your website looks finished. Google may see a blank page.
The redesign failure mode, from a live case: why a site can render perfectly in a browser while search engines get nothing.
InsightsThe website was still up. It just wasn't alive.
The quiet failure mode: a site that keeps rendering while its forms, listings, and search presence die underneath it.
The questions a broken site raises
Is my content gone?
Almost never. A broken site is usually disconnection, not loss: the pages exist somewhere, at the wrong addresses, in an export, in an archive, and nothing points at them. Part of the diagnosis is finding the best surviving copy to restore from.
Do I have to blame whoever built it?
No, and I won't either. Rescues here are no-fault: migrations are hard, contracts end, tools mislead. I document what's broken and how it gets fixed. Who did what stays your business.
How long does a rescue take?
It depends on what survives and what access exists, so the timeline is scoped in writing with the price. One honest distinction: "live and working again" is a date I commit to. "Rankings recovered" is a different clock that no honest person promises. It gets watched, not guaranteed.
What happens after the rescue?
Monitoring, so it can't happen silently again. Most rescues hand off to a care plan. That's a separate decision, and the rescue stands on its own either way.
If your site might be quietly broken, know in 90 seconds.
The audit reads your site the way a search engine does and shows you what it finds. Free, no email required.