They jump. But I didn't know that when I was lying on the ramshackle dock with my face two feet from his nose.
Just before you arrive at the ruins of Coba, a half hour into the jungle west of Tulum, there is a sprawling lake. Stop when you see the dock that you really wouldn't trust in a heavy wind and, instead of walking out onto the dock, walk across the street to the little concrete house. A lady will greet you and ask if you want to see the crocodile.
Unbelievably, she will fetch some chicken and lead you out over the marshy green water where, on a warm sunny day, you can watch her feed the crocodile.
His name is Negro.
Take plenty of pictures, but don't get this close.