Florida v. Cole Goldberg

Picture this. Hundreds of boats packed into Lake Boca Raton on a Sunday evening in April. Music blasting. People drinking. The annual Boca Bash in full swing, thousands of people crammed onto the water for South Florida's wildest boat party of the year.

Somewhere in that chaos, a woman is screaming.

She's in the water. She jumped off a boat to get away from a man who, witnesses say, had been grabbing her aggressively for twenty minutes straight. She swam toward strangers on another vessel, desperate for safety. But the man followed her in. And according to multiple eyewitnesses, he grabbed her by the throat with both hands and held her underwater.

People on surrounding boats started yelling at him to stop. He didn't respond. Didn't flinch. Multiple witnesses described him as being in a "complete rage," seemingly unable to hear or process anything around him. So strangers did what the situation demanded. They jumped into the water themselves, physically separated the man from the woman, pulled her onto their boat, and used a boat hook to keep him from climbing aboard.

His own friends saw what happened. They wouldn't let him back on their boat either. They drove away and left him in the water.

That man is Cole Preston Goldberg. He was 23 years old at the time. He's now 26, and as of today, he's standing trial for attempted second-degree murder.

The woman is Caroline Schwitzky. She was 32 then, a Miami talent agent and mother of three who had appeared on TLC's "90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After?" in 2016. She survived because complete strangers refused to look the other way.

Nearly four years later, this case is finally going to trial. Not in front of a jury. Goldberg waived that right. A single judge will hear the evidence, weigh the testimony of those bystanders, and decide whether what happened that evening on Lake Boca rises to attempted murder.

We're not here to convict Cole Goldberg before the evidence is in. We're not here to declare him innocent either. We're here to watch whether the system does what it's supposed to do: prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt, protect the rights of the accused, and deliver a fair result.

This is Justice Is A Process. Let's get into it.

What Cole Goldberg Is Accused Of

Boca Bash, April 24, 2022

The Boca Bash is an annual unsanctioned boat party that takes over Lake Boca Raton on the last Sunday of every April. It started around 2007 when organizers canceled a planned event but boaters showed up anyway. Since then, it's grown into a massive gathering, drawing anywhere from 6,000 to 10,000 people onto the water. There's no official organizer. No tickets. No structure. Just boats, alcohol, and Florida sunshine.

Lake Boca Raton sits between Palmetto Park Road and East Camino Real in Boca Raton, squeezed between the five-star Boca Raton resort and a strip of land along the Atlantic. Much of it is shallow, knee-deep to shoulder-depth over sandy bottom. Boats anchor in the deeper northern section. Everybody else wades into the shallows. It's the kind of event where the line between fun and chaos gets blurry fast.

Law enforcement patrols the waters every year. FWC officers, Boca Raton police, fire rescue. They've seen everything out there. Dozens of boating under the influence arrests annually. Medical emergencies. A 32-year-old man drowned during the 2018 event. In 2024, FWC made 16 arrests at Boca Bash. The City of Boca Raton has no official involvement in the event but coordinates with state agencies for safety. The party has a reputation, and it earns it every year.

That's the setting. Hundreds of boats packed together, thousands of people drinking in the sun, music blasting from every direction. It's both a party and a powder keg. And on April 24, 2022, something happened on that water that would take nearly four years to reach a courtroom.

Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission officers were out on marine patrol that evening, shortly after 6 p.m., when they were flagged down by people on a boat. When officers arrived, they found Caroline Schwitzky aboard a vessel that wasn't hers, surrounded by strangers who had pulled her from the water. Cole Goldberg was still in the lake.

The Argument on the Boat

According to witness statements documented in the FWC police report, Goldberg and Schwitzky, who had been dating for approximately one year, got into a heated argument while on a boat at the event. The argument escalated.

Schwitzky tried to leave. Multiple witnesses told officers the same thing: Goldberg would not let her go. He was grabbing her aggressively, physically preventing her from getting off the boat. This went on for roughly twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of a woman trying to escape while a man held her in place on a boat surrounded by hundreds of other vessels.

Eventually, Schwitzky started punching Goldberg's arms to break free. She managed to get loose, jumped off the boat, and started swimming toward another vessel nearby.

Into the Water

Goldberg jumped in after her.

This is where the eyewitness accounts become critical. One group of bystanders on a nearby boat told FWC officers that Goldberg caught up to Schwitzky in the water and grabbed her by the throat with both hands, attempting to strangle her while holding her underwater. They described him as being in a "complete rage." They yelled at him to stop. He seemed unresponsive, they said. He kept holding her under.

Another witness provided a slightly different angle on the same events. This person said Schwitzky had swum to their boat and asked to use a flotation device because she was exhausted from swimming. While she was there, Goldberg approached from behind, grabbed her by the neck and shoulder area, and pushed her underwater.

Multiple people from surrounding boats jumped into the water to pull Schwitzky away from Goldberg. One witness's husband and sister-in-law physically separated the two. Others on the boat used a boat hook to keep Goldberg from climbing aboard after Schwitzky was pulled to safety. One witness told officers they grabbed the boat hook and threatened to strike Goldberg with the pole if he tried to board.

Think about that for a second. Complete strangers, people who had shown up that day expecting nothing more than a boat party, found themselves jumping into the water to save a woman's life and physically fighting to keep a man away from her. That's not a minor scuffle. That's not a couple having a loud argument. That's a scenario where bystanders believed someone was going to die if they didn't act.

Goldberg's own friends, the people he'd arrived with, witnessed what happened. According to the police report, they would not let him back on their boat. They drove away and left him clinging to a stranger's vessel in the water. When the people closest to you in that moment won't take you back, that tells its own story.

The Arrest

When FWC officers arrived and pulled Goldberg from the water, they began interviewing witnesses. They documented bruises on Schwitzky's arms and legs. Goldberg had bruises on both knees and scratches. Officers took photographs of the injuries at the scene.

Based on the witness statements and physical evidence, FWC arrested Cole Goldberg on the spot. He was booked into the Palm Beach County Jail just after midnight on April 25, 2022, on charges of attempted first-degree murder and battery.

A judge set bond at $60,000 with conditions: no weapons, no contact with the victim, no contact with witnesses. Goldberg posted bond and was released the same day.

Schwitzky was also briefly detained that night on an unrelated out-of-county warrant. She posted $1,000 bond and was released.

The People at the Center

Caroline Schwitzky

Caroline Schwitzky was 32 years old at the time of the incident. She's a Miami-based talent agent, the founder and CEO of a talent management company called Urge Talent. She's also a mother of three children from a prior marriage.

Most of the media coverage has focused on her brief appearance on reality television. She appeared on TLC's "90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After?" in 2016, not as a main cast member, but as a talent agent working with cast member Paola Mayfield. It was a small role on a popular show, but it's the detail that made this case national news when it broke. Every headline led with the reality TV connection. That sells clicks. It doesn't tell you who this woman actually is.

Beyond the reality TV connection, Schwitzky is a working professional and a mother who lives in South Florida and runs her own business. She had visible bruises on her arms and legs after the incident. She obtained a no-contact order against Goldberg through the 15th Judicial Circuit Court in Palm Beach County. Whatever happened that night on Lake Boca, the physical evidence and witness accounts establish that she was trying to get away and he was preventing it.

That's what matters here. Not her TV credits. Not her social media following. Not whatever the defense wants to say about her motivations. A woman tried to leave a situation and, according to the State, was attacked for it. That's the core allegation, and everything else is noise until the evidence says otherwise.

Cole Preston Goldberg

Cole Goldberg was 23 at the time of his arrest. He's from Boca Raton, a graduate of Florida State University with a degree in Sports Management. On social media, he styled himself the "Wolf of Boca Raton" and described himself as a CEO and entrepreneur, listing businesses called "Cabana Beach" and "Woodmont Day Camp." He's now 26.

After his arrest, Goldberg initially had a court-appointed public defender. He later retained private counsel, hiring Fort Lauderdale defense attorney John W. Weekes. That shift from public defender to private attorney suggests resources and a serious intent to fight the charges.

The public persona Goldberg cultivated online, the "Wolf of Boca Raton" branding, the entrepreneur image, matters only in that it's now colliding with the reality of a criminal trial. Social media images of a lifestyle built on boats and Boca Raton wealth are a far cry from a courtroom in West Palm Beach facing attempted murder charges. That contrast will hang in the background of this entire trial, whether anyone mentions it or not.

Cole Goldberg has not been convicted of anything. He is presumed innocent. The allegations against him are serious, but allegations are not evidence, and evidence is not a verdict. That distinction matters, and we will hold it throughout this coverage.

What we do know is that his defense team, during opening statements today, painted a very different picture of the relationship and the events on the water. The defense characterized Schwitzky as someone who took advantage of a "quiet, sweet boy" and destroyed his life, suggesting she was motivated by money and fame. That's a defense strategy we'll be watching closely as the trial unfolds.

The Charges

The charging history in this case tells its own story. The charges have shifted significantly since that night in April 2022.

How the Charges Got Here

The charging evolution matters. On the night of the arrest, FWC officers charged Goldberg with attempted first-degree murder and battery. That's the most serious version of this charge, requiring proof of premeditation.

Prosecutors did not file on the original attempted first-degree murder charge. Instead, the case was initially filed as domestic battery by strangulation and battery. That's a significant downgrade from the arrest charge.

Then, more than a year after the incident, prosecutors upgraded the charges to attempted second-degree murder. That's the charge Goldberg faces at trial today.

Why does this matter? Because it tells you something about how prosecutors evaluated the evidence. They apparently didn't believe they could prove premeditation, which would be required for first-degree. But they also concluded that simple battery by strangulation didn't capture what the witnesses described. The depraved mind standard of second-degree sits in between, and that's where the State has planted its flag.

The Rejected Plea

Before trial, prosecutors offered Goldberg a plea deal. The terms were remarkably lenient for an attempted murder charge: six months in jail, three years of probation, and a 500-word letter of apology.

Six months. For attempted murder. Think about that for a second. A charge that carries up to 15 years in prison, and the State was willing to settle for half a year behind bars and a written apology. That tells you something about the prosecution's own assessment of the case, or at least their calculation of what a judge or jury might ultimately impose. Plea offers aren't random. They reflect the State's confidence level, the strength of the evidence as they see it, and a judgment call about what outcome serves justice.

Goldberg turned it down. His position, according to reports, was that he would not accept a plea to a felony. Not a negotiation over the terms. Not a request for less time. A flat refusal to plead guilty to any felony charge.

That's his right. Every defendant has the absolute right to reject a plea offer and go to trial. There's no penalty for exercising that right. The system is supposed to work this way. A plea is an offer, not a command.

But here's the reality of the gamble. By turning down six months and going to trial on attempted second-degree murder, Goldberg is now facing up to 15 years in prison if convicted. The gap between the plea offer and the maximum sentence is enormous. That's the weight of every trial decision. You trade the certainty of a known outcome for the uncertainty of a verdict.

The decision to reject the plea also shapes how we understand the defense strategy. Goldberg isn't just saying the State overcharged him. He's saying he's not guilty of a felony at all. That's a high-stakes position, and it means the defense will need to either attack the credibility of the eyewitnesses, offer an alternative explanation for what happened in the water, or argue that the events don't meet the legal definition of attempted murder.

The Legal Battle

A Bench Trial: No Jury, Just a Judge

This is a bench trial. Goldberg waived his right to a jury. One judge will hear the evidence, evaluate witness credibility, apply the law, and render a verdict.

Why would a defendant choose a bench trial? There are several strategic reasons. Judges are less susceptible to emotional arguments. They focus on legal elements and whether the State has proven each one beyond a reasonable doubt. In a case with graphic allegations, where eyewitness testimony about a woman being held underwater could inflame a jury's emotions, a defense attorney might calculate that a judge will be more analytical. More clinical. Less reactive.

There's also the witness credibility factor. This case happened at Boca Bash, an event known for heavy drinking. If the defense plans to challenge whether the witnesses accurately perceived what they saw, a judge may weigh that question differently than twelve citizens who might be influenced by the sheer number of witnesses saying the same thing.

The flip side? A judge who finds the evidence meets the legal standard doesn't need to convince eleven other people. There's no deliberation. No holdout juror. No hung jury possibility. It's all or nothing with one decision-maker.

The State's Theory

Based on today's opening statements, the prosecution is presenting this as a straightforward attempted murder case built on eyewitness testimony. The State told the judge that Goldberg grabbed Schwitzky by the shoulder and neck area and submerged her in the water. Their theory is that holding someone underwater by the throat constitutes an act so dangerous to human life, so reckless, that it demonstrates a depraved mind.

The State's case will likely hinge on the consistency of the witness accounts. Multiple people from multiple boats told investigators the same essential story. That kind of corroboration is powerful, even in front of a judge who will scrutinize the details more carefully than a jury might. When three, four, five independent witnesses describe the same thing, and they had no relationship to each other and no reason to coordinate their accounts, that's the kind of evidence that builds a wall for the prosecution.

The physical evidence supports the narrative too. Bruises on Schwitzky's arms and legs, documented and photographed at the scene by FWC officers. Scratches and bruises on Goldberg's knees. The injuries are consistent with a physical struggle, though the defense will likely argue they're also consistent with something less than attempted murder.

We also know the State will lean heavily on the bystander rescue itself as evidence of severity. Strangers don't jump into the water and threaten people with boat hooks over a verbal argument. The actions of the witnesses, the fact that they felt compelled to physically intervene, tells the judge something about what those people believed was happening in real time. That's circumstantial, but it's telling.

The Defense Strategy

The defense previewed its approach in opening statements today, and it's aggressive. Goldberg's attorney characterized Schwitzky as someone who took advantage of a "quiet, sweet boy" and destroyed his life, framing her as a person motivated by money and fame.

That's a character attack on the alleged victim. It signals several possible defense themes. The defense may argue this wasn't an attempted murder at all, that what happened in the water has been exaggerated or mischaracterized by witnesses who were drinking and watching from a distance. They may argue that Schwitzky's account is unreliable because of her background or motivations. And they may try to reframe the entire relationship dynamic, suggesting that Goldberg was the vulnerable one, not Schwitzky.

Whether that strategy works with a judge remains to be seen. Judges tend to focus on what the evidence shows, not who the parties are as people. Character evidence has its limits, especially in a bench trial where the decision-maker has years of legal training and isn't easily swayed by emotional appeals. But if the defense can create reasonable doubt about the severity of what happened in the water, the character framing might provide context for an alternative narrative that the judge can hang a not-guilty verdict on.

The defense may also focus on what the evidence doesn't show. There's no video of the incident, at least none that's been publicly disclosed. The case relies entirely on witness testimony and physical evidence. In an era when almost everyone has a phone in their hand, the absence of footage from an event with thousands of attendees could be a point the defense raises. Why didn't anyone record it? Was it really as dramatic and prolonged as the witnesses described?

What We'll Be Watching

Every trial is a test of the system. Does the process work the way it's supposed to? Are rights protected? Is the burden of proof respected? Those are the questions my father spent his career fighting for, and they're the questions that drive everything we do on this channel.

My father, Steven M. Askin, was a criminal defense attorney for 23 years. He understood something most people never learn: the system only works if it works for everyone. It doesn't matter how ugly the allegations are. It doesn't matter how many witnesses say they saw it happen. The Constitution requires the State to prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt, and a defendant who forces the State to meet that burden is not gaming the system. He's using the system exactly as it was designed.

Cole Goldberg exercised several constitutional rights in this case. He rejected a plea deal. He waived his right to a jury trial. He's forcing the State to prove attempted second-degree murder in front of a judge who will apply the law with precision. None of that should count against him. None of it means he's guilty. None of it means he's innocent. It means he's using the tools the Constitution provides, and that's exactly what those tools are for.

In this case, there are specific issues worth watching closely.

First, the depraved mind standard. "Depraved mind" sounds like something from a horror movie, but it's a specific legal concept in Florida. The State has to prove that Goldberg's actions demonstrated such reckless indifference to human life that they rise above ordinary recklessness, above even gross negligence. This is a higher bar than most people realize. Holding someone underwater by the throat, in a public setting, while people scream at you to stop? That's the State's argument for depraved mind. The defense will argue the circumstances don't meet that standard. Maybe it was a struggle that looked worse from a distance. Maybe the water made everything more chaotic and dangerous-looking than it actually was. The judge has to decide, and that decision will come down to how credible the witness testimony is.

Second, witness credibility under judicial scrutiny. A jury might be overwhelmed by the volume of consistent testimony. A judge will look at each witness individually. Were they drinking? How far away were they? What exactly did they see versus what they inferred? Did the witnesses talk to each other before giving statements? The FWC officers were conducting interviews at an event where alcohol was flowing freely. Were the witnesses sober enough to accurately perceive and remember what they saw? The defense will push hard on that. And a judge, unlike a jury, is trained to parse credibility questions with surgical precision.

Third, the bench trial dynamic itself. We rarely see bench trials in cases this serious. Goldberg made a strategic choice, and we'll get to watch in real time whether it was the right one. There's no jury instruction to parse. No verdict form to fill out. No deliberation room. Just a judge who has to look at the facts and the law and make a call. For people who study the system, this is fascinating. You get to see the legal analysis laid bare without the unpredictability of twelve strangers in a room.

Fourth, the relationship between the charges and the evidence. The charging evolution in this case, from attempted first-degree to battery by strangulation to attempted second-degree, suggests prosecutors themselves weren't initially sure where this case belongs on the severity spectrum. The judge will have to decide if the State has drawn the right line. Is this attempted murder? Or is it something violent and terrible that still falls short of that specific legal definition? The distinction matters enormously. It's the difference between years in prison and something far less severe.

And finally, the proportionality question. The State offered six months. They're now seeking a conviction that could bring 15 years. That gap matters. Not legally, but it tells you something about how the parties view this case. The State wasn't confident enough in a severe sentence to hold firm on the original first-degree charge. The defense wasn't willing to accept any felony conviction. Somewhere in that gap is the truth of what happened on April 24, 2022, and a judge is going to have to find it.

The Road to Trial

Nearly four years from incident to trial. That timeline, while frustrating, isn't unusual in Florida's court system. Cases get continued. Depositions take time. Plea negotiations drag on. And when the charges change midstream, from battery to attempted murder, the defense needs time to prepare for the elevated stakes. The system moves slowly by design, not by accident. It's supposed to give both sides time to prepare, time to gather evidence, time to negotiate. But four years is a long time for an alleged victim to wait for accountability, and a long time for an accused person to live under the weight of an attempted murder charge without resolution.

What matters now is that we're here. The evidence will be presented. The witnesses will testify. And a judge will decide.

Why This Case Matters

On the surface, this looks straightforward. A man allegedly attacked a woman at a boat party, witnesses intervened, and now he's on trial. But look deeper and there are layers worth examining.

This case is a test of how the system handles domestic violence allegations when the evidence comes primarily from bystander witnesses rather than the victim's own testimony. It's a case study in charging decisions, how prosecutors evaluate and re-evaluate what the right charge is when the initial arrest charge doesn't stick. It's a window into the bench trial process, which most people never see because it's so rarely chosen in serious felony cases.

And it raises questions about the "depraved mind" standard that apply far beyond this one defendant. What level of violence during a domestic dispute crosses the line from battery to attempted murder? Where's that line drawn? How do you prove someone's state of mind in a chaotic, alcohol-fueled environment where perception and reality might not align perfectly?

These aren't abstract legal questions. They affect real people in courtrooms across Florida every day. This trial will produce answers, at least for this case, and those answers will tell us something about how the system works.