Firstly I’d like to thank everyone for all their support text messages – I received 92 in total! - Completely overwhelming, yet very much appreciated.

Tuesday 10th August 2004, 04:00 I woke to hear the rain still pounding down outside. (Hurricane Alex had turned into a gale – delivering heavy wind and rain in the westerly section of the English Channel, dashing the hopes of a cross Atlantic rowing team, thrashing their boat to pieces earlier in the week). In Dover, we had lightening and seriously heavy rain all night the previous night and it obviously hadn’t passed over. I was concerned about the conditions for the day, however the low cloud, pouring rain and fog meant that the sea was absolutely flat – almost perfect conditions.

I entered the water from Shakespeare beach at 07:04 and got going, the rain was still pounding down, looking up at the boat was disheartening as I could see the crew in their fishing / shipping water proofs and umbrellas, with my support team; friend Kate and sister Sharon, wrapped up in ski jackets, hats etc, getting completely soaked through. The first hour went faster than I anticipated, and only when the rain was pelting down so hard that it was pummelling my face, did it really bother me.

I was going well – good strong strokes through the water, I waved at the first ‘sea cat’ passenger ferry that went past. I felt I was going to make it and much faster than I anticipated, but time didn’t matter – as long as I got there. My feeds were good, I would lay on my back, kick my legs and take in my liquids or banana, nothing revisited me for a second round, which is always good! I had visions of the day ahead and was really excited by the prospect – but it did involve the need for some sunshine.

The jellyfish were nasty creatures, with incredibly long tentacles. I saw 12 in total, but unfortunately didn’t see the one that stung my left hand, leaving it feeling numb and immobile for quite some time. The passenger and vehicle ferries going past, made it all seem ‘real’, under the water they sounded like shingle on a beach being moved by waves, but it was the propellers going through the water. The waves that are generated from them were large, and I would swim a little further away from the support boat at these times as it all looked rather unstable! :o/.

The rain was persistent, and at one point during the swim, visibility had been reduced to a couple of hundred yards. All around all I could see was doom and gloom, to my right I could see the grey rain streaking from the clouds, in front of me was a band of heavy dark clouds. I needed some sunshine – the sun’s rays help keep the body warm – even short spells of sunshine are little boosters and after 4 hours in, I was cold and shivering.

I was finding it difficult to maintain a good stroke pattern, as I was shivering so much I wasn’t taking in enough air on each breath, and therefore needing to breathe more frequently. My right leg kept retracting into my body, and I was really desperate for my next feed, which seemed hours apart, rather than just 30 minutes.

I got through the first bad patch and motored on for a bit, except then I noticed that the support boat was no longer to my right and was a distance behind me. I stopped and the crew shouted at me to carry on. Swimming ahead without a boat was really very disconcerting and I just couldn’t do it. I waited, while they untangled a rouge buoy rope line out of the way of the boats’ rudder, and unfortunately this wait, just made me colder. I tried to continue, on a few occasions I found my goggles were filling with salt water – my tears of determination. I would do a few strokes, and my leg would retract to my body, I was shivering so much I would just hug up into the foetal position, I had to ignore the shouting for me to keep swimming, as this had to be my decision.

I would catch my breath and then stretch out into the cold waters again, for a few more strokes. My legs were so cold, that I could barely kick and tried arms only.

In the end, I was just bobbing in the water in the foetal position. The crew and my support team asked what I wanted to do. I couldn’t answer, I didn’t want to give up, but I didn’t want to continue being that cold, plus I could barely speak because I was so cold.

Next, everything happened in slow motion. The ladder on the rear of the boat was extended into the water, one of the crew, still in his waterproofs stepped down onto the back platform and reached out his arm. I am sure I was meant to swim for this, but I couldn’t, I just remained with my knees up tight to my chest, my arms clenched tightly around them and my hands just provided some sort of balance, until eventually I was at the rear of the boat. Arms came down and placed my hands on the ladder railings, and I slowly climbed out, was wrapped in numerous blankets and was told repeatedly that I must not go to sleep.

It was all over.

:o(

Well, I count myself lucky enough to have at least attempted a life long ambition, I am annoyed that I didn’t have the courage to continue, but I am not gutted that I haven’t achieved my dream – I tried. Apparently, if I had continued at the pace I was going I would have knocked approximately 6 hours off the 15 hours I was hoping to do it in! In the 4 hours and 46 minutes I was in the water for I covered nearly half the distance and had over taken two other swimmers who had entered the water before me.

There were 8 swimmers attempting the channel on Tuesday, and I was the 2nd to call it a day, only 1 succeeded – a Spanish man who set a new record.