Narrative:

It was like any other hayride for the cowboy pilot--except for his having to babysit me. He was still recovering from the night before, but beginning to show signs of improvement after finishing off his 20TH smoke. I was happy to be heading home. Our cockpit professionalism was deteriorating 3 times as fast as our 3 legs. Swirls of smoke wound their way around me dramatizing the entrapment that I now began to feel. At 75 mi north of our destination we asked center for a lower. At 55 mi north, we were finally cleared to descend and cross 35 mi north at 10000'. I looked over at pilot and asked him if he wanted me to tell them that we couldn't make it. In his usual manner (like a horse going to water) he tossed his head back and blurted out, 'watch me.' well, we tumbled over and jolted around, in and out of the cumulus with the barber pole standing up against the speed needle. I stiffly pushed back into my seat and mumbled something about maneuvering speed, gndspd and time from our crossing restriction, etc--all ignored. Two mi from our crossing point and barrelling on through, it dawned on me that nobody cared about the problem except me. I called center to tell them that we weren't going to be able to make the restriction and they gave us a vector and further descent clearance. Shortly after that we depressurized with a rush and a bump. I called approach. Not really being much of a cowgirl type, I decided that I had been riding this bronco long enough. I told phx that we needed to divert for a sick passenger and cancelled IFR. The passenger wasn't the only one that was sick. Solution: hopefully I won't run into a trip with a pilot like this again. I most likely will, though, and above all, in the future I will trust my judgement better and not allow myself to be intimidated and led into a situation such as this.

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Original NASA ASRS Text

Title: CPR SMT UNABLE TO MEET CROSSING RESTRICTION DUE TO LATE DESCENT CLRNC.

Narrative: IT WAS LIKE ANY OTHER HAYRIDE FOR THE COWBOY PLT--EXCEPT FOR HIS HAVING TO BABYSIT ME. HE WAS STILL RECOVERING FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE, BUT BEGINNING TO SHOW SIGNS OF IMPROVEMENT AFTER FINISHING OFF HIS 20TH SMOKE. I WAS HAPPY TO BE HEADING HOME. OUR COCKPIT PROFESSIONALISM WAS DETERIORATING 3 TIMES AS FAST AS OUR 3 LEGS. SWIRLS OF SMOKE WOUND THEIR WAY AROUND ME DRAMATIZING THE ENTRAPMENT THAT I NOW BEGAN TO FEEL. AT 75 MI N OF OUR DEST WE ASKED CENTER FOR A LOWER. AT 55 MI N, WE WERE FINALLY CLRED TO DSND AND CROSS 35 MI N AT 10000'. I LOOKED OVER AT PLT AND ASKED HIM IF HE WANTED ME TO TELL THEM THAT WE COULDN'T MAKE IT. IN HIS USUAL MANNER (LIKE A HORSE GOING TO WATER) HE TOSSED HIS HEAD BACK AND BLURTED OUT, 'WATCH ME.' WELL, WE TUMBLED OVER AND JOLTED AROUND, IN AND OUT OF THE CUMULUS WITH THE BARBER POLE STANDING UP AGAINST THE SPD NEEDLE. I STIFFLY PUSHED BACK INTO MY SEAT AND MUMBLED SOMETHING ABOUT MANEUVERING SPD, GNDSPD AND TIME FROM OUR XING RESTRICTION, ETC--ALL IGNORED. TWO MI FROM OUR XING POINT AND BARRELLING ON THROUGH, IT DAWNED ON ME THAT NOBODY CARED ABOUT THE PROB EXCEPT ME. I CALLED CENTER TO TELL THEM THAT WE WEREN'T GOING TO BE ABLE TO MAKE THE RESTRICTION AND THEY GAVE US A VECTOR AND FURTHER DSCNT CLRNC. SHORTLY AFTER THAT WE DEPRESSURIZED WITH A RUSH AND A BUMP. I CALLED APCH. NOT REALLY BEING MUCH OF A COWGIRL TYPE, I DECIDED THAT I HAD BEEN RIDING THIS BRONCO LONG ENOUGH. I TOLD PHX THAT WE NEEDED TO DIVERT FOR A SICK PAX AND CANCELLED IFR. THE PAX WASN'T THE ONLY ONE THAT WAS SICK. SOLUTION: HOPEFULLY I WON'T RUN INTO A TRIP WITH A PLT LIKE THIS AGAIN. I MOST LIKELY WILL, THOUGH, AND ABOVE ALL, IN THE FUTURE I WILL TRUST MY JUDGEMENT BETTER AND NOT ALLOW MYSELF TO BE INTIMIDATED AND LED INTO A SITUATION SUCH AS THIS.

Data retrieved from NASA's ASRS site as of August 2007 and automatically converted to unabbreviated mixed upper/lowercase text. This report is for informational purposes with no guarantee of accuracy. See NASA's ASRS site for official report.