The number of encampments along the San Diego River has risen repeatedly since officials set new limits on where tents are tolerated in the city, complicating efforts to reduce how many people sleep outside.
There were 122 active camp sites at the end of last month, according to surveys by the San Diego River Park Foundation. Five months ago, before San Diego’s camping ban took effect, there were 95.
An encampment can include a single tent or several hand-built structures throughout a 25 meter area, meaning multiple people often live at each location.
“I almost never come across anybody that doesn’t want help,” said Kendall Burdett, an outreach worker focused exclusively on the riverbed. “It’s rare that I find anybody that wants to stay out there.”
Riverbed camps create a host of challenges for both their occupants and surrounding communities. Fires may spread and pollution can mount. Even when sites are kept relatively clean, flooding washes trash into waterways.
The relative isolation is also a problem during emergencies. Since 2012, at least five homeless people appeared to have drowned in local rivers, several of whom were simultaneously struggling with addiction or disease, according to data from the San Diego County medical examiner.
Staffers at the River Park Foundation regularly tally how many encampments they see throughout San Diego and Santee. The total had dropped on and off in the years before COVID-19 — there were fewer than 30 at one point in 2019 — but that trend reversed during the pandemic.
The highest number recorded during the past six years was 130, a record set in October 2022. Totals fluctuated in the months after but have generally risen since last summer when police began enforcing San Diego’s new camping ban.
While the most recent increase occurred amid a sharp drop in homelessness downtown, those shifts do not appear to be directly connected. Representatives for the foundation and the nonprofit People Assisting the Homeless said they were not aware of anyone who immediately traded the urban core for the river.
Burdett, who works for PATH, said his clients generally ended up by waterways after living in other locations, including shelters. Even when people had positive experiences at places like San Diego’s new safe sleeping sites, they sometimes didn’t want to wait for an apartment in a crowded setting.
Many nonetheless had jobs and were self-sufficient enough that they could live independently once a unit opened up, according to Burdett. Out of a caseload of 60 or so, he estimated about half were actively trying to get under a roof.
Burdett helped around a dozen people find permanent housing last year and hoped that total would increase as organizations devote more resources to the area.
The region recently received a $17 million state grant to help around 250 individuals living by the river.
The recent rise in encampments has been most pronounced in San Diego. There were fewer than 50 active sites in August, shortly after the ban took effect. By December, there were 70.
The Unsafe Camping Ordinance does allow officers to ticket and arrest people repeatedly found living by waterways, regardless if shelter beds are available. But enforcement has so far focused on schools and parks and police have given relatively few citations overall.
Santee, which has its own camping ban, has seen less of a jump.
The East County city began its enforcement in May. Encampments soon dropped from 64 to 47, the largest month-to-month percentage decrease in years.
The total has since ticked up slightly, but there were still only 52 last month.
