I have bad news for you.
Back when I lived in the hellhole known as Miami, we did, in fact, have crocodiles. I still own a boat dock down there. Not long ago I received a group email from the marina staff, telling slip owners not to bother the big croc that had moved in.
They couldn't have it moved, because the "they were here first" nuts would have glued themselves to roads and held topless protests. Men have to spend a lot of time underwater in that marina cleaning boat hulls, so I hope that crocodile doesn't like Cuban food.
A couple of years back, a guy who lived near what used to be my house was unable to use his front door because a crocodile had decided her porch was a good place to hang out.
Interesting thing: Australians like to brag about their big crocs, but a lot of that information appears to be exaggerated. If you do a lot of reading, you will find out that Florida crocodiles aren't tiny in comparison. Throwing out BS claims made by blowhards drunk on Foster's, the record for the Australian crocodile's species is a little over 20 feet, and for the American crocodile, it's 16 feet. The biggest alligator measured reliably was 15 feet, 9 inches long.
Strangely, I have never heard of a crocodile attack in Florida, but alligators snack on unwary people and dogs pretty frequently.
The web explains it. The ratio of alligators to crocs is about 500 to one, so crocodiles are actually nastier on a per-potential-suitcase basis.
I believe the reason we have so many successful attacks is that old yankees and poodles don't run very fast. And urban yankees think all of nature's creatures are their pals. This is why their votes have made it so hard for us to have bear hunts, even though Florida black bears have a taste for New Yorkers wearing Bermuda shorts and black socks. They are drawn to white loafers like ants to honey.