Drowning Really Doesn’t Look Like Drowning

Drowning Prevention: What Parents Need To Know

Spending time in the water with our families—whether it’s in the pool, at the beach, or on the lake—is supposed to be fun. We pack sunscreen, snacks, floaties, and towels, imagining the memories we’ll make. But as parents, there’s always that quiet voice in the back of our minds worrying about what could go wrong.

And while most of us imagine scraped knees or sunburns, the worst-case scenario—the one we often don’t want to think about—is drowning. But here’s the thing: we need to think about it. Not in a way that ruins the day, but in a way that keeps us vigilant and informed. Because when drowning happens, it doesn’t look the way we’ve been told.

The Truth About Drowning

Years ago, I read an article by Mario Vittone, a retired Coast Guard rescue swimmer. The title stuck with me: Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning. In it, Mario explains that drowning is almost never loud or dramatic. There’s no flailing, no cries for help. It’s quiet. It’s subtle. And if you don’t know what to look for, you’ll miss it—even if you’re standing just a few feet away.

This article changed how I see water safety. It stuck with me so much that I even reached out to Mario to be a guest on my podcast. He kindly declined, but his words stayed with me. They prepared me for a moment I never expected.

What Drowning Really Looks Like

According to Mario, here are the signs of drowning:

• Head low in the water

• mouth at water level

• Head tilted back

• Little or no leg movement

• Gasping or hyperventilating

• No shouting

• Attempting to swim but making no progress

• Trying to roll onto the back

• Climbing an invisible ladder

• Silence—no splashing, no cries for help

  
  

If you see these signs, act immediately. Because a child in trouble won’t yell “help.” They won’t call out for Mom or Dad. Their body will be locked into survival mode, doing all it can just to breathe.

My Personal Story With Drowning

For years, only a handful of people knew what I’m about to share. Honestly, I didn’t tell my wife for two years. Not because I didn’t trust her, but because I didn’t know how to talk about it.

One summer, my family joined several others for a day at the lake. Kids were swimming off the dock, and I was out there with them—floating on a pool noodle, getting splashed, keeping watch. Some parents probably thought I was being overprotective. But I’ve learned to trust my instincts.

I noticed a preschool-aged boy, we’ll call him Jake, floating off around a large float. It was huge—almost the size of a pontoon boat—and crowded with kids and adults. Jake had been near his mom most of the afternoon, but now he was alone, trying to climb the float at its tallest, most difficult spot.

I floated over to him and calmly asked what he was doing. He wasn’t very verbal, but made it clear he didn’t want help. I stayed nearby and gently redirected him to the safer side where others could reach him. Then I went back to watching the other kids.

But a few minutes later, I got that feeling. You know the one. Something wasn’t right. I scanned the area—and then I saw it.

The Moment That Changed Everything

Jake’s feet were the only part of him visible. That’s all I could see. His body was underwater, upside down, just barely visible. A foot was tangled in the rope that ran around the float.

The floatie vest that was meant to protect him was now pinning him in place beneath the float where no one could see him. His mom was just a few yards away.

I swam to him, untangled his foot, reached beneath the float, and pulled him up by the floatie vest. As I did, I saw his head lift as I pulled him up from the water—he was still conscious. His eyes were wide open. And in a way I can't explain, his eyes were pitch black. No pupil, no iris, no sclera - just black.

As I held him he didn't make a sounds. Suddenly, his body ejected all of the water that as in his system. It poured out of his mouth, nose, and I swear his ears. Then he took the biggest breath of his life. His eyes returned to normal.

He was alive.

A minute later, his dad appeared and called him in for lunch. I simply said, “Yeah, he needs to get out of the water,” and handed him up. No one knew what had just happened.

Jake spent the rest of the afternoon running around, laughing, and eating chicken nuggets like nothing had happened. And in a way, that’s a blessing. But that image of his feet sticking up from the water haunted me. It still does.

The next day, I spoke with my friend, podcast guest, and personal protection expert Gonzalo Senosiain of Combat MF. I told him what happened, and he helped me understand that I had saved Jake’s life. At the time, I didn’t see it that way—I just did what needed to be done. But Gonzalo reminded me that unsupervised water play is one of the biggest threats to children.

He’s right.

Water Safety Is Not Optional

This wasn’t a case of bad parenting. Jake’s parents are good people. This was a random accident—a combination of a hidden rope, an oversized float, and a determined preschooler. But it still could’ve ended in tragedy.

And that’s why I’m sharing this now. Not for credit. Not for applause. But because this story might help you save a child’s life. God put me in the right place at the right time.

Drowning Is Personal

About a year after the incident, I was back at the lake. I jumped off a boat and lost the life jacket I was holding. For a brief moment, I panicked underwater. I felt the confusion, the helplessness. I thought of Jake.

That moment gave me a glimpse into what drowning really feels like: silent, terrifying, and deeply personal.

So parents, when your kids are in the water, be in the water with them—or be watching them like it’s your job. Because it is.

Put your phone down. Pay attention. You won’t get a warning call. You won’t hear a scream, but their soul will be screaming for you.

And sometimes, all it takes to save a life is watching close enough to see a pair of small feet slipping beneath the surface.

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