A series of sweeps of O'ahu homeless camps in recent months have not made the homeless go away, police and advocates say, but have pushed them out of the public eye and into areas that are often dangerous.

"They get rousted from certain areas, find other areas such as the bottom of Diamond Head, and just keep moving," said Darlene Hein, director of Waikiki Health Center's Caravan healthcare program for the homeless.

Authorities have swept the homeless from the North Shore, Wahiawa, 'Ewa Beach, Wai'anae Boat Harbor, Ala Moana Beach Park and Waimanalo Beach Park, often as a result of complaints from the communities.

In response, many have learned to avoid congregating in public in any significant numbers, and to find the most out-of-the-way, hidden haunts possible.

Some are now camped out near remote bike trails, setting up makeshift shelters in drainage ditches, living in vehicles, hiding under highway overpasses or living in public parks.

Police and the people who live in these areas say drug use and other crimes are common, and that fear of the elements and worries about being victimized are constant.

"I feel OK here because there's not a lot of people, but it can be dangerous," said Sara, who would give only her first name because she did not want to be stigmatized because of being homeless. Sara has been living in a van under an overpass at the end of Lehua Street in Pearl City since last October with her two children, ages 18 months and 3 years.

The V-shaped lot is crammed with about 50 vehicles and police suspect the site is used as a "chop shop" where stolen cars are stripped for parts.

Sara has set up a play area behind the van for her kids. Her boyfriend is in prison and she'd like to move to the Institute for Human Services.

"I applied last October but dropped to No. 58 on the IHS wait list because I had no P.O. box," she said. "I know what goes on (here) but I don't bother nobody. Housing is limited, and I got no place else to go."

Sara uses a small stove to cook and was trying recently to stretch $20 over a couple of weeks to pay for gas and food.

Another homeless woman, who lives in a hidden campsite and would only identify herself as Sal, is among 11 people living above the bike path behind Leeward Community College. There's a "no parking, do not block driveway" sign hanging above a trail leading to one camper's tent.

Sal, her husband and children live deeper in the brush, out of sight.

"I trust here more than Barbers Point and places in Nanakuli," she said, carrying kiawe gathered from the shoreline for firewood. "Over there, they might rob you, kill you. The cops kicked us out of our last place and we found out about this one when we was fishing (from a nearby bridge)."

That was seven months ago.

"We worry about food and rain, that's all," Sal said. "Our tent is not waterproof."

Nor is it theft proof.

"Somebody stole our food, Spam and spaghetti," Sal said.

Asked if there was somewhere she wouldn't go to stay, Sal without hesitation answered, "Hans L'Orange Park."

"Everybody knows that," she said. "I won't let my kids go there; too much gambling and using and selling drugs — right there by the bathroom."

Pearl City Crime Reduction Unit police officers call Hans L'Orange a "hot spot."

As officers from the unit recently entered the L'Orange parking lot from different sides in two recognizable white vans, they were greeted by warning sounds of whistling and car horns honking.

"There's usually 20 to 30 people here," Sgt. Douglas Iwamasa of the Pearl City unit said.

On this day, there's a man sleeping outside a restroom; a man and woman are sleeping in a parked car with a baby on the woman's stomach and a young girl playing outside the car; a young woman is sleeping in the back of a pickup truck; and a suspected drug dealer is eating with three young children nearby.

The people whom police normally see loitering are a mix of homeless, addicts, drug dealers and regular park users.

"It becomes a problem on weekends when regular people there for an event are afraid to use the restroom," Iwamasa said.

The homeless also have set up makeshift wooden shacks down a maintenance ramp next to a drainage canal at Waipahu District Park. For a while, some were also living between the mounds of dirt and a construction fence at the district park's baseball field.

Spokesman Scott Ishikawa confirmed state Department of Transportation plans to address community concerns about the homeless under the Wilson Bridge, where the DOT did a sweep in March. The population includes children, and because drug paraphernalia was found in the area, it became a health and safety issue, he said.

Some homeless are still living in city parks. Iwamasa said that during daytime hours when the park is open, anyone has the right to be there.

When parks are closed, usually from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m., it means "homeless or otherwise, no one should be in the parks," city spokesman Bill Brennan said.

"Being homeless is not a crime, it's a social issue," Iwamasa said. "If we observe a criminal offense occurring or someone has a warrant, we'll address the issue."

No visible signs of new homeless camps have sprung up on One'ula Beach Park since a March 3 sweep of 25 to 30 people living illegally in the brush.

For several months, 'Ewa Beach residents Haunani and Jonathan Kalauawa made space in their rented three-bedroom home for four families who were swept from the park that day.

The Kalauawas, who fed 40 to 50 homeless people at One'ula Beach Park twice a week and did Bible study with them for two years as part of their own ministry for New Hope Church, opened their home for the sake of the children of the displaced homeless families.

But most of the people who had to leave One'ula weren't so lucky. They scattered into the community, where some live in vehicles and others roam along Fort Weaver Road, returning to the park at night to sleep, according to Darrell Taylor, who is homeless.

"All (the sweep) did," Taylor said, "was push people to the street. Some still take a chance and put up a tent but nothing elaborate. The trouble with the camps (at One'ula) was it got too big, too blatant, so it attracted too much attention. That's why I left (before the sweep). You got to be invisible."

Taylor, who has had both legs amputated, lives in his car.

Reach Rod Ohira at rohira@honoluluadvertiser.com.