Nine days after Randall “Randy” Spivey, 57, and his nephew Brandon Billmaier, 33, vanished during a deep-sea fishing trip in the Gulf of Mexico, their families continue to reject the idea of farewell. Despite the U.S. Coast Guard suspending its active search on December 22, 2025, loved ones insist that the two experienced boaters—both accomplished attorneys—could not have simply disappeared without a trace. “They are too skilled, too cautious,” close relatives have shared in private conversations. Randy’s decades of offshore fishing and Brandon’s admiration for his uncle’s expertise fuel a persistent hope that defies the odds.
Yet, in recent days, a private detail about Randy’s personal fishing habits has emerged within family circles, particularly regarding his approach to life jackets. This revelation has prompted some relatives to reassess their initial optimism, introducing a sobering layer to the ongoing vigil.
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Recapping the Enigmatic Vanishing
The ordeal began on December 19, 2025, when Randy Spivey and Brandon Billmaier departed early from Spivey’s waterfront home in Iona, near Fort Myers, aboard the 42-foot Freeman catamaran “Unstopp-A-Bull.” The uncle-nephew duo, bonded by family and a shared passion for the sea, planned a day of bottom fishing approximately 100 miles offshore. Randy, a prominent personal injury attorney and founder of Spivey Law Firm, was known for his meticulous safety protocols. Brandon, a trial lawyer at Shiner Law Group in Boca Raton who viewed Randy as a mentor and second father, had recently married and dreamed of one day joining his uncle’s practice.
They were due back by evening, but as night fell without contact, alarm set in. Family members reported them missing around 9 p.m., triggering an immediate Coast Guard response.
The turning point came early on December 20 when a helicopter located the vessel adrift about 70 miles west of Fort Myers. The boat was upright, engines running in gear, with no visible damage. Critically, no one was aboard—and two life jackets were missing from their storage spots.
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Missing Florida boaters are Randy Spivey and nephew Brandon Billmaier
This discovery initially sparked hope. Families and officials interpreted the absent life jackets as evidence that the men had time to don them before whatever incident forced them into the water. “It suggested they might be afloat,” sources close to the search noted at the time. The EPIRB (emergency beacon) remained untouched on board, adding to the puzzle: Why no distress signal?
The subsequent search was monumental, covering thousands of square miles with Coast Guard assets, volunteer boats, and private aircraft. Conditions were relatively mild—winds around 10-15 mph, seas 2-4 feet—but the vast Gulf offered no clues.
The Families’ Defiant Hope
From the outset, relatives clung to the men’s experience. Tricia Spivey, Randy’s wife, described him as “safety-conscious” with over 30 years of boating expertise. Deborah Billmaier, Brandon’s wife, shared heartfelt posts, thanking searchers and expressing faith in a miracle. In an exclusive interview just before Christmas, Deborah reflected on Brandon’s love for fishing and family, holding onto the belief that he was out there, waiting.
Other family members echoed this sentiment. Randy’s son posted updates urging continued prayers, while friends like Paul Rocuant organized volunteer efforts, declaring, “They’re coming home.” The missing life jackets became a symbol of possibility: If Randy and Brandon were wearing them, survival in the water—despite cooling December temperatures—seemed plausible.
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Many in the community refused to accept a tragic outcome. “These aren’t novices,” one relative reportedly said. “Randy knows the Gulf better than most. They wouldn’t go overboard without a fight—and with life jackets, they could still be holding on.”
The Private Detail That Changed Perspectives
As the search suspension loomed and days turned into a week, conversations within the family turned introspective. A close relative—speaking on condition of anonymity to respect privacy—revealed a longstanding habit of Randy’s: Despite his emphasis on safety equipment, he rarely wore a life jacket while actively fishing on deck, especially in calm conditions offshore. “Randy always had them readily available,” the relative shared, “but he believed in his balance and the boat’s stability. He felt inflatable types were cumbersome when reeling in big fish.”
This insight, drawn from years of shared trips, cast the missing life jackets in a new light. Initially seen as proof the men had prepared for immersion, it now raised questions: Had they grabbed the jackets in a sudden emergency, or were they simply displaced? More poignantly, if Randy’s habit extended to that day, perhaps neither man was wearing one when the incident occurred.
For some family members, this detail marked a turning point. “It made us pause,” the relative admitted. “We were so focused on hope from those missing jackets, but knowing Randy’s routine… it shifted things. Not to despair, but to a more realistic view.” Others, however, maintain that the circumstances—whatever caused two vigilant men to leave a running boat—would have allowed time to don the vests.
No public statement has directly addressed this habit, and families continue to support the FBI’s ongoing investigation into the “unusual circumstances.”
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The Suspension and Ongoing Investigation
On December 22, the Coast Guard made the agonizing call to suspend active searching after exhaustive efforts. In a family statement, they expressed gratitude and respect for the decision: “Brandon and Randy would never want anyone else to put their life in danger.” They acknowledged the experts’ confidence that, if the men were afloat on the surface, they would have been found.
The case transitioned to the FBI as a federal missing persons probe. Theories abound—a sudden medical event, a rogue wave, carbon monoxide poisoning, or an accidental fall—but no evidence points to foul play.
A Community in Limbo
As December 28, 2025, arrives with no new developments, Southwest Florida and beyond remain gripped by the story. Randy Spivey, a community pillar who helped countless injury victims, and Brandon Billmaier, the young lawyer following in his footsteps, leave behind legacies of kindness and dedication.
Families refuse to utter goodbye, balancing hope with the weight of unanswered questions. The private detail about life jacket habits has tempered some expectations, fostering quiet reflection rather than outright acceptance of loss. Yet prayers persist, and the Gulf—vast and mysterious—holds its silence.
In the words of one supporter: “Until we know, we hold on.” The vigil endures, a testament to love’s refusal to yield. 