Entry I · 22 Mar 1944
1944
The last mission
Lt. Jackson’s final flight, over Belgium. March 22, 1944.
Our story · Kingston Ferry Terminal · est. 2012
A family-owned coffee company on the Edmonds–Kingston crossing. Two homes, one name, carried forward.
Chapter one · Flight log
The namesake
Lt. Jackson with “Margie”
P-38 Lightning · 364th Fighter Group
Lost over Belgium on March 22, 1944, on his final mission. He was our founder’s great-grandfather. We never got to meet him. His name is on the door anyway — and on every cup we hand across the counter.
Remembered · 1944
We opened in 2012 at the Kingston Ferry Terminal and never left. Aviator Coffees & Teas is owned by Bill and Kara Beckman — Lt. Jackson’s family. Their son Cole runs the day-to-day as operations manager, and his sister Zoe works the stand.
The stand runs on the ferry clock. The roasting runs on ours. Fourteen years in, our crew still opens the window every morning — family, more often than not.
Flight log · Three entries
Entry I · 22 Mar 1944
1944
The last mission
Lt. Jackson’s final flight, over Belgium. March 22, 1944.
Entry II · 29 Apr 2012
2012
The Hangar opens
First cup at the Kingston Ferry Terminal, April 29, 2012. We roasted our own beans from day one.
Entry III · Present day
Today
The Roost & the Roast Club
Every bean still roasted on Bainbridge Island, where we always have. The Roost took its name on July 1, 2026. Member bags ship quarterly — every Feb, May, Aug, and Nov.
Two homes · One route
Every bean makes one crossing before it makes your cup.
Station 01 · Kingston Ferry Terminal
The stand. Where your morning happens — built around the ferry clock, measured in minutes to the boat. Order at the window, or ahead. Either way, you make the sailing.
Kingston, WA · Edmonds–Kingston route
Station 02 · Bainbridge Island
Where every bean is roasted — the slow half of the operation, where the nerdy work gets done. Home of Roast Club events. Tours are by appointment, or come with your Roast Club membership.
Bainbridge Island, WA · Roasting & Roast Club
Chapter two · Ground school
The stand is fast because it has to be. This page isn’t. Everything we’d tell you about coffee if you weren’t catching a boat.
A method, not a bean. Hot water forced through finely ground coffee at roughly nine bars of pressure, for 25 to 30 seconds. The result is small, concentrated, and done fast. Every drink on our board starts here.
The band of tan foam on a fresh shot — carbon dioxide and coffee oils driven out of solution under pressure. Below it sits the body, the transition, then the heart at the base of the cup. Crema only forms on fresh coffee and fades in minutes. Yes, that’s where the Crema King gets its name.
Roast level is a trade. Light keeps the bean’s origin character — fruit, acidity, florals. Dark trades it for body: chocolate, smoke, weight. Neither is “stronger”; that’s the dose. Lt. Jackson’s Dark Roast Rescue holds down the dark end of our board.
Roasted coffee peaks days after roasting and fades over weeks. Grocery-shelf bags can be months old before you open them. Ours crosses one body of water between The Roost and your cup. Read the roast date, not the best-by.
Too coarse and water races through: thin and sour. Too fine and the shot chokes: bitter. We re-dial the grinder through the day as the weather shifts. That’s the fiddly part you’re paying us to care about.
Know your size, your milk, and your name before you reach the window. Drip is fastest; blended drinks take longest. Cutting it close? Order ahead and it’s waiting on the counter before you’ve parked.
Monthly bags from The Roost, or a cup waiting at the dock. Your call.
Pilot’s logbook · loose page
Third generation holding the stick.
— The Beckmans
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