The ocean wasn't kind this morning.

The temperature dropped down to a chilly 14C (57F), with waves so high that the wind was whipping the water off their crests. I am thankful that I did my training in the Falkland Islands and around the Cape of Good Hope.

Almost every day, I enjoy being able to dive off the stern and into an inviting sea. So far, it has felt like a pleasant Friday afternoon swim in midsummer. This swim, however, was a 9am Monday morning slog in the rain and cold.

The size of the swell meant that our boat, Aquila, was lurching up and smashing down after every wave - even with our new and substantially improved drogue, made up of a cubic tonne dumpy sack.

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I swam in constant fear that Aquila would accidentally smash down on top of me after a particularly large wave.

I also struggled to get my breathing right, for the first time. You only have a nanosecond to decide when to breathe when you are swimming in rough seas - when you get it wrong, you swallow a mouthful of seawater and start to choke.

Making the mistake once or twice is tolerable, but not 16 or 17 times.

The Long Swim has been a game of long snakes and short ladders; when I miss my target distance for a day, it is a big loss and it puts me far behind, taking me days to catch up.

When we do manage to get ahead, it is progress by marginal gains.

After the double disappointment of not being able to swim yesterday and therefore missing out on the fast spring tides, I was 7km (4.3 miles) behind schedule and still needed to cover today's 10km (6.2 miles). That's 17km (10.6 miles) in one day in a miserable, moaning sea.

She was making her unhappiness heard. I am listening to her protests.

This challenge started as a campaign for clean and healthy seas. It is quickly becoming a protest swim.

I am swimming 560km (348 miles) so that others will hear our calls and will stand up with us in defence of the dolphins, the seals and the puffins.

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If it's not us fighting this fight, then who will?

The fish have been replaced with plastic. Those fish that are left are eating microplastics. Once they enter the food chain, we eat them too. Plastic is slowly killing us all.

The public knows, they care deeply - yet successive government have not only failed to act but have made promises that they have failed to keep. It's up to us to now hold them to account.

As I've said before, this is no longer a problem for our children's generation. It is too late for that - it is our problem now.

We will not go quietly up the Channel.

12.87km (8miles)