Kissing the Alligator

Along time ago, I undertook multi-engine flight instruction. The flight school was in Florida; its runway ended in a swamp, where, we novice pilots were certain, alligators lived. While we didn't know much about such creatures, we feared them. What would it be like to go for a swim and come nose-to-snout with a twelve-foot reptile? Thus no one swam, even though the days were hot and a lovely little pond was just beyond the ready shack. We did not want to kiss an alligator.