In the vast, unpredictable expanse of the Gulf of Mexico, where the allure of deep-sea fishing draws adventurers seeking thrill and tranquility, a routine outing has spiraled into a community’s nightmare. On the morning of December 19, 2025, Randall “Randy” Spivey, a 57-year-old prominent personal injury attorney from Fort Myers, and his 33-year-old nephew, Brandon Billmaier, a dedicated trial lawyer from Boca Raton, set out aboard Spivey’s 42-foot Freeman catamaran, named “Unstopp-A-Bull.” Their plan: a day of bottom-fishing in rich offshore waters, a passion they’ve shared since Brandon was a child. But as the sun set without their return, panic set in. The discovery of their empty boat adrift 70 miles offshore ignited one of the largest search operations in Southwest Florida history—only for the U.S. Coast Guard to suspend efforts on December 22, shifting the case to the FBI. Now, in a raw and emotional appeal, Spivey’s son, Randall Spivey Jr., is rallying boaters and pilots to join private searches, refusing to let hope fade as Christmas looms without answers.

This isn’t just another maritime mishap; it’s a profoundly human story of unbreakable family ties, selfless heroism in the courtroom and on the water, and a son’s unrelenting determination to bring his father and cousin home. As Randall Jr. posted on social media, “Every hour matters.” Drawing from family statements, official reports, and community responses, we delve into the lives of these two men, the chilling timeline, the monumental search, and the ongoing private efforts that keep fragile optimism alive. In a season meant for miracles, their story grips the heart, reminding us how swiftly joy can turn to anguish—and how love fuels the fight against the odds.

The Men Who Vanished: Pillars of Family and Community

Randall Spivey wasn’t just an attorney; he was a force for good in Southwest Florida. For over 30 years, the founder and president of Spivey Law Firm dedicated his career to advocating for the injured, securing justice for countless clients through his tenacity and compassion. Described by loved ones as an “incredible, devoted, and loved husband and father,” Spivey balanced high-stakes litigation with family life, married to Tricia (or Deborah in some accounts) and father to Randall Jr. At 6’1″ and 245 pounds, with brown hair and eyes, he was last seen in khaki pants and a dark shirt—practical attire for a man who lived for the sea.

His nephew, Brandon Billmaier, idolized him, following in his footsteps into law. Recently married, Billmaier joined Boca Raton’s Shiner Law Group in 2023, quickly earning praise as a “valued member and friend” for his kindness and skill in personal injury cases. At 6’2″ and 250 pounds, with strawberry-blond hair and brown eyes, he embodied youthful promise. Family members note that Spivey was like a second father to Brandon, guiding him through milestones—from graduations to his recent wedding. Their shared love for offshore fishing bonded them deeply; photos show them beaming with massive red snapper catches, a testament to decades of adventures together.

Spivey was no novice boater. He’d been navigating the Gulf his entire life, equipping “Unstopp-A-Bull” with advanced GPS, spot trackers, and safety gear. Yet, even experience couldn’t foresee whatever catastrophe unfolded that day.

The Fateful Trip: From Promise to Panic

The journey began with excitement on December 19. Departing early from Spivey’s private dock in Iona’s Intracoastal Court, Fort Myers, the duo fueled up and headed west, targeting spots about 100 miles offshore known for abundant fish. Weather was cooperative—calm seas, mild winds—offering no hints of danger.

By evening, concern mounted. Expected back by sunset, their overdue status prompted reports around 9 p.m. The Coast Guard Sector St. Petersburg launched an urgent response, using the boat’s spot tracker to pinpoint its location.

At midnight on December 20, a helicopter crew spotted “Unstopp-A-Bull” adrift approximately 70 miles west-southwest of Fort Myers, near Naples, Marco Island, and Flamingo areas. The vessel was upright, engines possibly idling, lights on—but eerily empty. A rescue swimmer boarded, confirming no occupants. Crucially, two life jackets were missing, sparking hope that the men had donned them during an emergency. Personal items remained aboard, suggesting a sudden incident, perhaps a man-overboard where one fell and the other attempted rescue, only for the autopilot to drift the boat away.

The Freeman was towed to Fort Myers Beach station for examination, yielding no immediate signs of collision or storm damage.

A Monumental Search: Heroes on Sea and Sky

The operation exploded in scale, covering thousands of square miles—one of the largest offshore efforts in regional history. Coast Guard assets included cutters, HC-130 aircraft from multiple stations, and MH-60 Jayhawk helicopters. Partners like the Lee County Sheriff’s Office, Florida State Guard, and volunteers from across states contributed dozens of boats and planes.

Crews battled fatigue, scanning relentlessly. “We executed this massive search with the utmost professionalism, persistence, and compassion,” said Capt. Corrie Sergent. Over two dozen vessels deployed, with volunteers coordinating grids.

Yet, despite favorable conditions, no debris, signals, or sightings emerged. Gulf currents, swift and unforgiving, complicated matters. Survival experts note that even with life jackets, hypothermia and exhaustion threaten in December waters.

At sunset on December 22—after four days—the Coast Guard suspended active searches “pending new information.” Sergent called it heartbreaking, offering condolences. Family members, including Deborah Billmaier (Brandon’s wife), respected the decision: “Brandon and Randy would never want anyone else to put their life in danger.”

A Son’s Heartfelt Appeal: “We Are Not Giving Up”

As official efforts paused, Randall Spivey Jr. stepped forward with raw vulnerability. In a Facebook post that went viral, he wrote: “My dad and my cousin are still missing and we are not giving up. Based on our search of the boat, we believe they have flotation devices and are waiting to be found. Every hour matters. We need to bring them home. They are two of the kindest, most selfless people I know. They are my role models.”

Jr., who was in Alabama when news broke, emphasized his father’s expertise and their lifelong fishing tradition. He appealed directly to the community: Boaters with 250-mile range vessels should call Paul at (239) 634-3400; pilots able to assist, contact Milo at (239) 229-3737.

By Monday, December 22, response was overwhelming. “A lot of boats are going out this morning,” Jr. reported, gratitude evident amid grief. Private searches continue, fueled by donations and volunteers using drones, sonar, and coordinated grids.

Deborah Billmaier echoed hope on social media, thanking searchers while clinging to positivity. The Shiner Law Group mourned: “We are deeply saddened… Brandon is a valued member and someone we care about tremendously.”

The FBI Steps In: A Shift to Investigation

With suspension came transition: The FBI now leads a missing persons probe, standard for unresolved offshore cases. No evidence of foul play has surfaced, but agents examine the boat—forensics, GPS data, trace evidence—to reconstruct events.

Tips are urged via Coast Guard channels or local authorities. As of December 26, 2025, no breakthroughs, but private efforts persist.

Community in Mourning: A Somber Christmas

The timing amplifies pain. Families face a holiday shadowed by absence. Deborah finds solace in Brandon’s final hours pursuing passion: “He loved fishing… he lived for his family, for me.” Tributes highlight their legacies—helping the vulnerable through law, inspiring through kindness.

Southwest Florida rallies: Shares, prayers, volunteer turnouts reflect the men’s impact.

Echoes of the Gulf: Lessons from Similar Tragedies

Florida’s waters claim lives yearly—capsizes, sudden shifts, currents scattering hope. Cases like 2023’s Venice fishermen underscore risks, even for experts. Precautions: Float plans, EPIRBs, life jackets (the missing ones here offer hope).

This incident spurs calls for enhanced tech and awareness.

Hope Endures: The Fight Continues

As 2025 closes without resolution, Randall Jr.’s plea resonates: “We still need help. We still need them found.” Private searches press on, community support unwavering.

This saga captivates—two role models, a devoted son, a sea holding secrets. It stirs empathy, urgency, reflection on life’s fragility. Perhaps a Christmas miracle awaits, or answers from depths. Until then, the search—in waters and hearts—rages on.

For assistance: Contact listed numbers or authorities. Keep Randy Spivey and Brandon Billmaier in thoughts.