The Mysterious Disappearance of Randall Spivey and Brandon Billmaier: A Fishing Trip Turned Tragedy in the Gulf of Mexico
On the morning of December 19, 2025, two experienced boaters—57-year-old Fort Myers attorney Randall Spivey and his 33-year-old nephew Brandon Billmaier—set out for what was supposed to be a routine deep-sea fishing excursion off the southwest coast of Florida. They departed early from Spivey's waterfront home in Iona, aboard a 42-foot Freeman catamaran named “Unstopp-A-Bull,” planning to target bottom fish approximately 100 miles offshore in the vast expanse of the Gulf of Mexico. The men were expected to return by sunset that evening, but as darkness fell and no communication came, concern quickly escalated into a desperate search that gripped the local community and made national headlines.
Randall Spivey, a prominent personal injury lawyer with the Spivey Law Firm in Fort Myers, was described by friends and family as a safety-conscious boater with over 30 years of experience on the water. Standing 6'1″ tall, weighing around 245 pounds, with brown hair and eyes, he was last seen wearing khaki pants and a dark-colored shirt. His nephew, Brandon Billmaier, a Boca Raton-based associate attorney at the Shiner Law Group, was 6'2″, 250 pounds, with strawberry blond hair and brown eyes. The two shared a close bond; family members noted that Brandon looked up to Randall as a father figure and role model throughout his life.
By 9 p.m. on December 19, with the men overdue, Randall's wife, Tricia Spivey, reported them missing to the U.S. Coast Guard. “We've gotta find them. Please, please find them,” Tricia pleaded in interviews with local media. “They're amazing people. I just need him back.” Brandon's wife, Deborah Billmaier, echoed the heartbreak on social media, posting updates and rallying support. The families' anguish was palpable as hours turned into days without any sign of the men.
The breakthrough—or rather, the chilling discovery—came around midnight on December 20. A Coast Guard helicopter from Air Station Clearwater located the “Unstopp-A-Bull” adrift approximately 70 miles west of Fort Myers Beach, near Marco Island. The vessel was found upright, still in gear with engines running, but eerily empty. A rescue swimmer was deployed to board the boat, shut down the engines, and anchor it for safety. Fishing equipment was still out, and some fish had been caught, suggesting the men had been actively fishing earlier that day. Notably, two life jackets were missing from the boat, offering a glimmer of hope that the pair might have donned them before whatever incident occurred.
The Coast Guard immediately launched a massive search-and-rescue operation, deploying aircraft, cutters, and boats to scour the Gulf. Conditions during the search were relatively mild—winds around 10 mph and seas of 3 feet—but the vastness of the ocean made the task daunting. Private volunteers joined in droves, turning the effort into what some called the largest community-led armada in Southwest Florida's history. Over 100 boats participated at one point, coordinated through family contacts and the Coast Guard. Friends like Paul Rocuant, a longtime associate of Spivey, helped organize searches, emphasizing Randall's contributions to the community and Brandon's bright personality.
Despite the exhaustive efforts, covering nearly 6,700 square miles (an area roughly the size of Connecticut), no trace of Spivey or Billmaier was found. On December 23, at sunset, the Coast Guard made the difficult decision to suspend active search operations. “There is no harder decision than suspending a search,” said Capt. Corrie Sergent of Sector St. Petersburg. The agency expressed gratitude to partners and volunteers while extending condolences to the families.
The suspension did not end the investigation. The case transitioned to the FBI, which took over as a federal missing persons probe. Authorities towed the boat back to Station Fort Myers Beach for further examination. Speculation arose about possible causes: a medical emergency leading one man overboard, followed by the other attempting a rescue; an accidental fall; or some unforeseen mechanical issue. The boat's emergency position-indicating radio beacon (EPIRB) remained onboard and inactive, adding to the mystery—no distress signal was ever sent.
As Christmas approached, the families faced an unimaginable holiday. Deborah Billmaier prepared to spend it without her husband, while Tricia Spivey and the extended family clung to fading hope. “Brandon has been a light in this world,” said one relative. Randall's son, Randy Jr., spoke of the profound loss, noting how his father had guided Brandon through milestones like graduations and weddings.
The Gulf of Mexico, known for its beauty and bounty, has a darker side. It claims lives every year through sudden storms, currents, or simple mishaps far from shore. In this case, the empty boat drifting alone evoked comparisons to “ghost ships” in maritime lore—vessels found abandoned with no explanation. Similar incidents, like derelict boats washing ashore or capsized vessels prompting rescues, underscore the dangers of offshore fishing.
No videos of the incident or search have surfaced publicly beyond standard news footage of Coast Guard operations and family interviews. Reports focused on aerial searches, volunteer fleets, and emotional pleas rather than dramatic visuals. The absence of a distress call or eyewitness accounts leaves the sequence of events shrouded in uncertainty.
As of December 26, 2025, Randall Spivey and Brandon Billmaier remain missing. The FBI continues to pursue leads, and families have urged anyone with information to come forward. What began as a joyful uncle-nephew outing has become a haunting mystery, reminding us of the ocean's unforgiving power. The community of Fort Myers and beyond mourns two respected attorneys and beloved family men, hoping against hope for answers—or a miracle—in the new year.
This tragedy highlights the importance of boating safety: wearing life jackets at all times, carrying functional EPIRBs, and filing float plans. For the Spivey and Billmaier families, the search for closure continues, even as the Gulf keeps its secrets.