Striper Fishing: The Elusive Part 2!

The "part 2" is even more elusive than the stripers!

Oh, werd?
Dawn broke over Cape May, New Jersey.
We opted to skip dawn and try 9am.
9am broke over Cape May's ferry terminal. The dead striper still sat on the beach. Racist graffiti glistened on the inside of the Port-O-Potties in the late morning dew. (Why is it that people think of the nastiest racial epithets while they are pooping? Honestly, there are better things to do with that time.) Eric and I baited our hooks with whatever we thought might work and tossed in our lines.
At this point, we had yet to even see someone catch a striper. In fact, we hadn't even heard a fisherman *claim* to hook one that "got away". We had heard that stripers like clams, but I love casting even if I am not catching, so I attached a lure with a squid strip onto my line. I am not sure what I was trying to attract with that, but I was pretty entertained casting and reeling for an hour or two. I got as many hits on my line as Eric and the other fishermen (none), so I took that as a sign to continue my strategy. Eventually, the tide shifted (and we got hungry), so we grabbed Kevin for a lunch break.
Kev: Ya know, when Dad goes fishing, he goes to Cape May Point.
Me: So, why were we hanging at the ferry jetty with the poop and the racists? Where do stripers live anyhoo?
Eric: Um... I think they were spawning...
Me: So.... where?
Kev: Let's try the Point!
Without waiting for the correct tide or grabbing our full tackle boxes, we drove to the strange but adorable neighborhood near Sunset Beach and scampered over the dunes to the water. A fisherman was walking off the beach as we approached.
Fisherman: Yeah, I caught a few shorts. Lots of sharks though.
Shorts! Small stripers! We were finally at the right place. Despite the wrongness of the tide, Eric, Kev, and I fished for over an hour with the fever of knowing that someone had caught something. We caught absolutely nothing but vowed to return at high tide.
High tide on the Point jetty. Small groups of fishermen (and women!) dropped lines into the ocean. Kevin and Eric opted for high-lows (two baited hooks on one line with a weight on the end). Still not knowing exactly what successfully catches a striper, I tried various combinations of lures and squid strips. Suddenly, Eric's pole bent.
Eric: I have a fish!
Kevin and I reeled in our lines and grabbed our bucket of "things we need if we catch a fish". (This includes the bucket, a towel, gloves, pliers, a knife, and this cool de-hooking tool in case you catch something that can bite you like a shark.) The "things we need" kit had gotten zero use the entire weekend, so we slipped and slid enthusiastically across the wet jetty rocks with the entire bucket-full of tools. It was a good thing we did...
Eric: I caught a skate!
Kevin (donning gloves and a manly voice): I will lean over the rocks to unhook it - WHAT THE HELL!?
Me and Eric: What?
Kevin: Crap. You caught a skate... and a shark.
I leaned over the rocks to see and sure enough, there was the skate, hooked on the upper hook and in a total panic because just below it was hooked a three foot shark. Crap, indeed.
Kevin calmly unhooked the skate and turned to consider the problem of the shark. As he did, the skate, trying in its frightened state to flee the predator also on the line, snagged its fin back on the hook again. The shark snapped at it hungrily. Kevin looked to the heavens for patience. He finally got both creatures untangled, but the shark chased the skate up into the jetty rocks where they rolled and tossed in the surf in a space the size of a suitcase. By this time, I felt queasy at the stress we had caused both animals. Kevin declared, "I may never fish again after this." Finally, with hands wrapped in no more protection that gardening gloves, he reached blindly into the tiny shark-infested hole and pulled the skate free. He tossed the kite-shaped fish into the ocean. The shark, deprived of its prey, soon swam free of the rock hole as well.
We fished a little while longer. I caught a small skate. Kevin tried out his beautiful, new $10 lure, "the needlefish". My parents arrived to offer us dinner.
Dad: Any hits?
Kev: Sharks and skates...
Dad: Well, clearly there is one thing to do. We all have to get up at 4am tomorrow morning.