The early morning sun glinted off the rippling water as Jeremy Sides and Adam Brown prepared their sonar boat for the day’s search. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of salt and algae, and the hum of Interstate 95 above reminded them of the urgency of their mission. They were here to search for Mr. Borges Diaz, a man last seen driving erratically northbound on 95 through Jacksonville before he simply vanished. The waters here were dark, tidal, and unpredictable—a dangerous mixture of currents and silt that concealed anything dropped or dumped.

“We’ve got a lot of boat ramps to cover today,” Jeremy said, scanning the GPS. “If Diaz’s car ended up in the water, we need to find it. And we’re starting north of the city, which is where the last sightings came from.”

Adam adjusted his dive mask and loaded their sonar equipment into the boat. “It could be shallow, it could be deep,” he replied. “We might find nothing. But you never know—we could hit the jackpot today.”

The first boat ramp they checked was narrow and dredged, but even at low tide, it showed no signs of recent disturbance. “All clear here,” Jeremy confirmed, noting the shallow mud. “Let’s head out into the deeper channels.”

As the boat moved through the tidal waters, the two men kept a sharp eye on the sonar screens. These coastal waterways were cluttered with sunken boats and derelict vessels, remnants of careless owners and forgotten grants. “It’s wild,” Adam said, pointing toward a partially submerged sailboat. “There’s a federal program to remove abandoned vessels, but most people don’t bother. They just rot here, causing hazards for everyone.”

Jeremy nodded. “It’s the perfect environment for something—or someone—to be hidden. And that’s why we have to be thorough.”

Hours passed, the current increasing and the sun rising higher, yet nothing out of the ordinary appeared. They logged every boat ramp, every muddy shoreline, every channel, knowing the odds were long but the stakes high. Then, near the far end of the river, Jeremy’s sonar picked up something irregular: the shadow of a vehicle, partially buried in silt.

“Anchor here,” Jeremy said, his voice tight with excitement. “This could be it.”

Adam prepared the drone, but the current proved too powerful. The small craft was tossed against rocks and debris, propellers clogged with mud. “We’ll have to go in ourselves,” Jeremy said, sighing. “Time to suit up.”

The cold water bit at Jeremy’s skin as he lowered himself over the side of the boat. The river bottom was uneven, littered with barnacles, old tires, and decaying wood. Visibility was poor, the murky water turning everything into shapes and shadows that might have been treasure—or nothing at all.

His hand brushed against the vehicle. It was a Subaru hatchback, its twin pipes streaked with blue, Florida plates barely legible through barnacles. The car’s windows were filled with silt, the interior partially collapsed. Jeremy pushed it aside and examined the tires and tailpipes. “This one’s newer,” he said aloud. “Could be the Diaz vehicle—but we’ll need to tag it, report it.”

Adam dove after him, exploring two other anomalies the sonar had detected. One was a Dodge Dart, relatively intact but sitting crooked in the mud. The third was a 1998 Buick, rusted and broken down into pieces by time and water. They documented each find carefully, photographing the tags, taking note of the unique features.

Back on the boat, Jeremy called the Jacksonville police to report their findings. “We’ve located three vehicles,” he said, relaying the details. “A Subaru with a 2022 plate, a Dodge Dart, and an old 1998 Buick. None appear to match the Toyota Corolla we’re looking for, but these are tagged and logged for your investigation.”

Hours turned into evening as the team pulled out of the waterway, their muscles aching and minds spinning. Though they hadn’t found Diaz’s car, the day’s discoveries were not without value. These vehicles represented missing reports, potential evidence for other investigations, and confirmation that the waterways were indeed used for dumping.

The next morning, Jeremy and Adam returned to the site, focusing on the deeper channels and current-prone areas. The water was calmer, tides slackened, and visibility improved slightly. They anchored near the suspected locations of the other sunken trucks spotted on sonar the previous day. Jeremy suited up first, diving carefully into the dark depths, checking for any signs of Diaz or other abandoned vehicles. Adam monitored the sonar and kept notes, recording every irregular shadow.

As Jeremy reached one of the deeper channels, he encountered a pickup truck partially buried under sediment. Its windows were opaque with mud, but the vehicle’s frame looked familiar. He photographed the license plate and documented its position, planning to investigate further with authorities. The current remained strong, pushing against his movements, but his training and experience allowed him to navigate the conditions safely.

Meanwhile, Adam discovered a smaller vehicle wedged between rocks and reeds. “This one’s definitely older,” he called up. “Looks like it’s been here for a long time—maybe a decade. Steel wheels, a rusted muffler… could be linked to a missing person case from years ago.”

Jeremy surfaced, taking a deep breath and shaking the water from his goggles. “We’ve got several vehicles, all logged, tagged, and photographed. Not Diaz’s, but this area is clearly a dumping ground. We need to continue tomorrow, and perhaps expand our search north and south along the river.”

The team’s persistence paid off. Within days, police confirmed that two of the vehicles found were linked to active missing person cases. The Subaru, with its 2022 plates, belonged to a man who had been reported missing during a boating accident but had never been located. The 1998 Buick, a relic of another case, helped resolve an unresolved cold file, providing closure to a family that had been waiting decades for answers.

Though Borges Diaz’s vehicle remained elusive, the search had proven the waterways were being used to conceal evidence. Authorities increased patrols, initiated new investigative measures, and implemented sonar mapping in other areas known for abandoned vessels. The public became aware, and tips began to flow in, aided by the visual documentation Jeremy and Adam provided.

Weeks later, a new sonar sweep, informed by the initial dives, finally revealed the long-sought Toyota Corolla. It had been swept downstream during a storm, wedged beneath debris. Divers retrieved the vehicle and recovered Diaz’s personal belongings. While Diaz himself was not found alive, the recovery provided critical closure for investigators, who could now reconstruct the final moments of his disappearance.

Jeremy and Adam continued to dive and document the Jacksonville waterways, uncovering more abandoned vehicles, derelict boats, and forgotten relics. Each discovery, while sometimes grim, contributed to public safety, historical records, and the resolution of long-standing missing persons cases. Their dedication became known throughout Florida, inspiring other independent search teams to adopt their meticulous methodology.

The search for Diaz, while tragic in outcome, highlighted the importance of perseverance, teamwork, and technological integration in search-and-recovery operations. Jeremy reflected on the experience in his follow-up video: “Every dive, every hour spent in these waters isn’t just for us—it’s for the families who deserve answers. Even if we don’t find the missing person alive, recovery and documentation provide closure and justice.”

For Adam Brown, the experience reinforced his philosophy that hobbies and passion could serve a greater purpose. “We do this because it matters. Not for money, not for fame, but because people are out there waiting for someone to care enough to search.”

The waterways of Jacksonville, once neglected and forgotten, began to see renewed attention. The derelict vessel program received increased funding, and local authorities established routine monitoring. Families of the missing felt a renewed hope, knowing that dedicated searchers were watching, recording, and recovering evidence that might otherwise have gone unnoticed.

In the end, the story was one of persistence and collaboration. Diaz’s case, while tragic, led to systemic improvements in waterway monitoring, inspired other search operations, and provided closure to multiple unresolved cases. Jeremy and Adam’s dives, though physically demanding and often frustrating, demonstrated the profound impact of dedicated human effort in solving mysteries long left to chance.

As the sun set over Jacksonville, casting a golden glow across the black waters, Jeremy and Adam packed up their equipment. They were exhausted, bruised, and cold, but a quiet satisfaction settled over them. They had uncovered the truth in the depths, brought closure to families, and left a mark on the community that would last far beyond the day’s search.

Jeremy looked over the water one last time, voice soft but firm: “We didn’t find Diaz alive today, but we found answers. And that’s what matters. Every case, every dive, every effort—someone out there is waiting for closure, and we’re here to give it to them.”

Adam nodded, tightening the straps on his gear. “We’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, until we find everything we can. That’s what this job is. That’s why we do it.”

With that, they drove off the boat ramp, leaving the murky waters of Jacksonville behind, but their work far from over.