Last night, I lay in my bunk wondering if I was going to fail at the eleventh hour, worriedly working through all the different options, not discounting anything.
Thirty per cent of all cross-channel swims fail within one mile of reaching France - was the English Channel going to be that cruel to me on this challenge as well?
It was a restless night, I tossed and turned, unable to find any peace despite my exhaustion.
When my alarm did go off, it felt like I'd not fallen asleep at any point, though I know I must have.
For the first time in days, I couldn't hear the wind whistling through the boat's rigging or rain thundering onto my cabin's roof. Conditions were finally calm.
Going out on the rib later that morning, I had a sense of optimism, my shoulders were feeling lighter than they had done for nearly a week.
Today was going to be the day that I finally reached Dungeness, my last hurdle. It would be third time lucky - I could feel it.
Diving in, the tide which had been absent for days started pulling me eastwards. There were waves, still, but they too were behind me, carrying me on their backs towards Dover.
The headland was drawing nearer and nearer, I could feel the current helping me around - I was going to make it.
Finally, after two hours and 11km, I could see past Dungeness and to Dover's chalky white cliffs.
The sense of relief I felt on getting back in the rib was overwhelming. I lay on the floor, wet and breathing heavily for nearly five minutes, just taking in the weightlessness of success.
My wife was on the rib too. Antoinette had joined me so that she could support me for this last, most challenging headland. It was wonderful to be able to share this moment with her, the sacrifices my family have made over the past year have been considerable.
The ride back to our main support boat was a blur of endorphins. I couldn't wait to tell the rest of the team that I'd been able to do it, all those who had been following me to. I've read every single message of support - I wanted to thank every single person.
Because, there's no longer any question. I will walk up Dover's Shakespeare Beach at 13.30 on Wednesday.
See you there.
6.7miles (10.9km) - Total distance - 312.6miles (503.14km)