By Ottawa Police
It was supposed to be a quiet family day out on the Ottawa River. The sun shone brightly over the Sandbar—a secluded spot near the Portage dam, accessible only by boat. Tactical Officer Kevin Brown was there with his family, playing frisbee and enjoying the peaceful setting. What started as a normal summer afternoon turned into a life-saving operation that would test every bit of his training.
Brown had briefly returned to his boat when something caught his eye. A man he’d seen earlier playing with two young girls was now floating motionless in the water. “At first, I thought maybe he was just looking at something,” Brown recalled. “But within a few seconds, it was clear that he wasn’t moving at all.”
Instinct took over. “Before my foot even hit the ground, I knew—he’s drowning,” Brown said. He immediately yelled for someone to call 9-1-1 and sprinted into the water.
What Brown saw was haunting: “His body was face down, motionless, curled over slightly.” As he pulled the man to shore, it was evident he had no vital signs: his face grey and his lips blue. Brown immediately started CPR. At first, nothing happened. “I kept rolling him over into the recovery position, checking his airway and his mouth to see if there was anything inside,” he said. “Eventually, I did get some [water] out, but it wasn’t like in the movies—it was very little, which surprised me.”
Still, he continued compressions. Slowly, signs of life began to return. “His eyes opened, but it was strange—like a computer powering up and then shutting down again. His pupils were pinpoint. But it meant we were making some progress.”
The man—later believed to have suffered a seizure leading to the drowning—was still unconscious and barely breathing. Brown’s wife was on the phone with emergency services, and another woman nearby identified herself as a former nurse.
Brown directed his family to bring the largest towel they had, which he used to roll and lift the man onto a pontoon boat belonging to the man’s group. “It was very much like what we practiced,” Brown said, referencing recent Tactical Combat Casualty Care (TCCC) training his unit had done. “We had just completed a full week of scenarios, including how to roll someone onto a flexible stretcher, move them into the armoured vehicle and have people ready to receive the patient.”
“I was able to facilitate all that seamlessly because of the hands-on training that the Tactical Paramedic Unit provided for us just three weeks earlier.”
As they traveled about 20 minutes to the boat launch where paramedics awaited, Brown monitored the man’s vital signs. The man slowly regained consciousness and began to speak. By the time they reached shore, he was sitting up—but reluctant to go to the hospital. “I told him he had broken ribs from the CPR and had to go,” Brown said.
Days later, Brown learned through a colleague that the man was alive and recovering.
Humble about the experience, Brown acknowledged the importance of his training. “We do a lot of combat training, care under fire, but this was different. The hands-on training that the Paramedic Tactical Unit put on for us is extremely realistic and it was incredibly helpful .”
The incident was Brown’s first major medical emergency outside of work. “It was very odd being [in this situation] with my family, because my kids were there,” Brown described. “I felt this wave of emotion at one point, because here are my kids, at our favourite place, and they could witness somebody die.”
Brown is thankful the lifesaving measures he performed led to a different outcome, saving the man’s life.His actions are a powerful reminder that training, quick thinking, and courage under pressure are not just part of the job—they’re qualities that stay with officers even when the uniform comes off.
And for one man and his family, it made a life-changing difference.
