Sam Sharpe was an expert captain. He loved the water and had been on and around boats since he was born.

Sam Sharpe, hours before the accident on Friday that took his life. Photo courtesy of Susanna Sharpe

That’s what makes the 23-year-old’s death so unbelievable, “the true definition of an accident,” said his mother, Susanna Sharpe, 51.

Sam Sharpe died Friday evening after going out on his boat near Potts Point Landing in South Harpswell. He pulled up to the dock to drop off his girlfriend, Liz Perkins, 24, of Lewiston, and went back out to attach the 19-foot center console boat to the mooring and bring the dinghy back to shore. While Perkins put their belongings back in the truck, Sharpe was somehow injured by the boat’s propeller. He was pronounced dead after witnesses brought him to the shore.

“It can happen to anyone, (even) someone whose skills are so advanced,” said his mother.

Sharpe’s loved ones said he was a loyal, hardworking man who cared for his family.

He had various jobs on and off the water after graduating from Brunswick High School in 2019 and attending Maine Maritime Academy for a year. He worked as a sternman for lobsterman Scott Merryman in Harpswell. His father, Joe, an “accomplished captain” himself, taught him everything he knew about boating, Susanna Sharpe said.

When he wasn’t on a boat, Sharpe enjoyed being outdoors and working with his hands. He worked at Southern Maine Landscaping and Butcher Boys Deer Cutting, and did carpentry work for Patrick McAllaster, of Brunswick, a general contractor.

Sam Sharpe Photo courtesy of Susanna Sharpe

Christy McAllaster, Patrick’s wife, said Sharpe seemed quiet when he started there about three years ago, but soon showed that he was a smart, quick learner who grew close to them. She said Sharpe often came home excited to tell his mom about what he learned at work, like how to angle a roof and frame a wall. She said Sharpe became skilled, had an acute attention to detail and didn’t need to wait around for instruction.

She said he helped landscape their home, take care of their dog and would joke around with them like he was a part of their family.

“I don’t know that everybody would know how genuine, nice, helpful and caring Sam is once he gets to know you,” McAllaster said.

His heart was bigger than him, she said. And he was 6 feet, 3 inches tall.

Perkins, his girlfriend, called Sharpe a “gentle giant.” She met him for the first time on Christmas at Blue Goose Tavern in Lewiston in 2022.

Sam Sharpe with his girlfriend, Liz Perkins. Photo courtesy of Susanna Sharpe

She went out to the bar to meet up with some mutual friends, wearing pajamas and XTRATUF lobstering boots with a fish pattern, which she wears working at a lobster pound. Sharpe said “nice boots” a few times, but she didn’t hear him until her friend pointed him out.

“He struck up a conversation and we chatted all night and we were inseparable ever since,” she said through tears.

They had their first date at King’s Head Pub in Portland a few days later and “just clicked.” They rarely fought and never spent more than a couple days apart, Perkins said.

She was the love of his life and planned to marry her, said his mother.

EMBEDDED IN THE COMMUNITY

He was embedded in his community, as captain of his high school baseball, basketball and golf teams and recently as a men’s league player at Mere Creek Golf Club. And he was willing to help anyone who needed it, his family said.

“Selfishly, I think it’s such a waste that a productive member of society, a great kid (who was) doing what he was supposed to do, all the right things, his life was cut short,” Susanna Sharpe said.

His aunt, Kate Vickery, 49, of Portland, said Sharpe was “the glue and the entertainment that held all of our lives together.”

“He walked into a room and everybody noticed him,” Susanna Sharpe said. “He’d often be found in the door to wherever he was trying to get, shaking hands, greeting people with a smile. I think his friends would call him the life of the party.”

He had a close relationship with his grandparents, John and Connie Vickery, of Brunswick, and visited them every Friday after he cashed his paycheck. And he was proud of his 20-year-old sister, Abby, who attends Syracuse University. She would often call him on FaceTime to ask him if her outfits looked OK, his mother said.

“He really just lived life on his own terms and to his fullest,” his aunt said.