It is essential to recognize that the distinction between social and natural systems is artificial to understanding socioenvironmental challenges (Berkes et al., 2002). Over time, perspectives on this relationship have evolved from a deterministic approach—attributing changes exclusively to natural factors—to a more integrative view that acknowledges their reciprocal influence (Bennett, 2005). The Industrial Revolution marked a turning point in this interaction, radically altering the relationship between society and the environment. This transformation accelerated economic and technological development, and it profoundly restructured ecosystems and social organization (Martin, 2009), contributing to the Anthropocene—an era in which human activity has become a dominant geological force (Steffen et al., 2011).

The consequences of these changes include significant alterations to the biosphere, such as landscape modification, loss of biodiversity, and climate change, all of which are progressing at unprecedented rates. The increasing influence of human activities has widened the gap between environmental challenges and our ability to address them (Berkes et al., 2002). Furthermore, these transformations have historically reshaped social structures and settlement patterns, disproportionately impacting marginalized populations through processes of dispossession, marginalization, and forced displacement.

Under the Enlightenment framework, the notion of the rational, self-interested individual became central to the idea of progress (Ingold, 1986). This perspective reinforced the divide between nature and culture, and it influenced the expansion of industrialization in 19th-century America, particularly within its newly formed nation-states. This mindset fueled colonial expansion, creating racial, economic, and epistemic hierarchies that legitimized the dispossession and forced displacement of indigenous populations (Ferdinand, 2022). The coloniality of power imposed Western knowledge systems, marginalizing indigenous communities and their ways of life while integrating them into exploitative labor structures (Quijano, 1998). Despite these imposed frameworks, indigenous and marginalized communities resisted, maintaining alternative relationships with nature and preserving forms of knowledge and adaptation that challenged colonial domination.

In this context, (Ferdinand 2022) suggests that two significant fractures characterize modernity. The first is an environmental fracture driven by a technocratic and capitalist civilization that has devastated both human and nonhuman ecosystems and communities. The second is a colonial fracture initiated by Western and imperialist expansion, which has marginalized and dispossessed indigenous peoples. These two fractures have operated simultaneously, reinforcing a model of progress on the basis of exploitation and exclusion. This colonial-capitalist model not only has structured global inequalities but also has led to the current crisis of the Anthropocene, accelerating environmental degradation.

In response to various crises, the concept of resilience has emerged as a key framework for understanding how societies navigate environmental and cultural transformations. It has been recognized as a boundary concept that has the potential to bridge scientific disciplines and inform policies, planning, and practices aimed at addressing the social and environmental challenges of modernity (Levin et al., 2022; Løvschal, 2022).

Resilience was originally defined as the ability of a system to return to equilibrium after a disturbance (Folke, 2016). However, it has evolved beyond the idea of merely resisting change. Today, resilience is understood not only as the ability to persist but also as the capacity to adapt and transform within dynamic and uncertain environments. This modern understanding incorporates recovery, flexibility, and innovation (Holling, 1973; Folke, 2016). From this perspective, resilience is not about restoring a previous state but about reimagining systems to create new pathways for survival and continuity (Folke, 2016).

In this context, archaeology offers valuable insights into how past and present societies have developed resilience. By studying historical strategies, we can better understand how communities have adapted to environmental and social disruptions. This understanding provides valuable tools for addressing contemporary global challenges (Nelson et al., 2012; Sauer, 2014). Research on past resilience reveals the various methods that communities have employed to navigate crises, such as reorganization, innovation, and cultural persistence, yielding insights that can inform modern strategies for sustainability and adaptation (Sauer, 2014; Løvschal, 2022).

In archaeology, resilience theory often focuses on climate and paleoenvironments, shedding light on how historical societies responded to environmental changes. This long-term perspective helps identify crucial factors contributing to human resilience and informs strategies for future challenges (Burke et al., 2021; Løvschal, 2022). Recent studies in this field have integrated paleoenvironmental data, Bayesian modeling, and radiocarbon dating to link climate variability with settlement patterns (i.e., Colin et al., 2020; Riris and De Souza, 2021).

Nevertheless, some critiques of resilience theory in archaeology highlight its overreliance on ecological models and its tendency to depict societies as passive recipients of environmental change (Burke et al., 2021; Løvschal, 2022). Scholars emphasize the need for a more integrative approach that considers political economy, inequality, and multispecies interactions to better capture the complexities of human–environment dynamics (Løvschal, 2022).

According to (Løvschal 2022), archaeology and philosophy can redefine resilience by examining the long-term histories of landscapes and alternative understandings of time. Rather than interpreting change as a linear or catastrophic process, it is crucial to acknowledge the multiple temporal dynamics that shape societies' responses to environmental transformations. This perspective challenges traditional ecological models by emphasizing that environmental change cannot be analyzed in isolation; it must be understood within the political and cultural frameworks that shape it. This shift aligns with broader developments in archaeology, where crisis and collapse models are increasingly being called into question for oversimplifying social change and overlooking the complex interplay between environmental, political, and cultural factors (Yoffee, 2010; Middleton, 2017, 2025).

Resilience is not only a reaction to environmental pressures but also a response to historical inequalities that shape a society's capacity to adapt. This statement is particularly relevant in central-western Patagonia, where communities, as in most of the Southern Hemisphere, have long developed resilience and resistance strategies in response to socioenvironmental transformations (Silliman, 2001; Nuevo-Delaunay and Goñi, 2004; Dillehay, 2007; Mitchell and Scheiber, 2010; Nuevo-Delaunay, 2012; Friesen, 2013; Kinahan, 2014; Nuevo-Delaunay, 2025; Sauer, 2014; Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2014, 2017, 2020; Nuevo-Delaunay and Paterson, 2017).

To fully grasp resilience in this region, it is essential to distinguish it from resistance. Resilience encompasses the ability of a system to absorb disturbances, adapt to challenges, and navigate change through multiple strategies (Adger, 2000; Leslie and McCabe, 2013; Folke, 2016). In contrast, resistance involves deliberate efforts by marginalized groups—particularly indigenous communities—to persist within or outside exclusionary systems (Matthews, 2010).

Although distinct, resilience and resistance share a common objective: survival and continuity. Through adaptation, negotiation, or defiance, these strategies illustrate how communities actively assert agency, challenge imposed constraints, and reshape their social and environmental landscapes (Wilcox, 2009). Survival narratives have been instrumental in highlighting indigenous experiences, moving beyond traditional accounts of loss and cultural assimilation. Recent studies on social resilience further support this perspective, demonstrating how communities have developed adaptive strategies to navigate disruptive changes, such as colonial encounters, thus reinforcing their capacity for long-term continuity (Silliman, 2014; Walder and Yann, 2018).

Building on this framework, indigenous communities in Aysén preserved and adapted key cultural practices while simultaneously reconfiguring their identities amid displacement and marginalization. Archaeological evidence suggests that everyday practices—often overlooked in historical narratives (Scott, 1985)—played a fundamental role in both resilience and resistance. These material expressions of cultural continuity, visible in the archaeological record, were essential not only for maintaining identity but also for actively contesting imposed economic and industrial models, resisting assimilation, and challenging historical erasure.

Therefore, reevaluating Aysén's historical period challenges the long-standing notion that this region was uninhabited at the time that outsiders arrived, instead highlighting the strategies of adaptation, resilience and resistance developed by its inhabitants. From a decolonial perspective, this means recognizing that indigenous populations and other marginalized communities were not merely passive recipients of external forces. Rather, they were active agents who confronted colonization and industrialization through distinct and often overlooked forms of resilience and resistance. Acknowledging these histories allows us to question dominant narratives and make visible these communities' enduring struggles and contributions, many of which remain marginalized in mainstream historical accounts.

The Aysén region is located between the 43° and 50° parallels south and covers a total area of 198,494 km², making it one of Chile's most extensive yet most isolated regions. Two main geographical areas characterize this region. First, the Pacific Ocean slope consists of an archipelagic territory featuring a cold jungle stretching from Chiloé to the Taitao (Reyes et al., 2019; Reyes, 2020). This area is historically associated with indigenous canoeing groups such as the Chonos and Kaweshkar (Cooper, 1946; Emperaire, 1963). Second, moving inland toward the region east of the Andes, the landscape transforms into vast steppes and flat, windy terrains. This region is historically connected to the Nahuelhuapi Lake area and extends to the Atlantic Ocean and Argentine territory (Urbina Carrasco, 2013). It is associated with groups known as Aonikenk or Tehuelches and Mapuche/Huilliche communities.

For the coastal area associated with canoeing groups, there is a significant ethnohistorical record detailing the processes of contact and extermination of local canoeing populations from the colonial period onward. However, there is less documentation regarding the Hispanic presence in this region during the colonial era. This lack of references reflects the limited importance historically attributed to the region, as contemporary attention was largely directed toward central Chiloé and the Strait of Magellan areas perceived as economic and political enclaves (Urbina Carrasco, 2013). While there are some relevant records of early direct contact with local populations, most focus on the Pacific coastal zone (Urbina Carrasco, 2010, 2013, 2014; Urbina Carrasco et al., 2020). These accounts, though valuable, are relatively few and become increasingly scarce south of the Chonos Archipelago (around 50° latitude) and especially toward the interior of the territory.

For inland groups, these have been widely described for the current Argentine territory corresponding to nomadic communities with a hunter-gatherer economy. Discourse was constructed from the colonization processes at the time of the formation of the nation-state during the 19th century. The consequences of this formation included the military practices of the neocolonization of genocide and reduction from the state, such as the so-called pacification of Araucanía in Chile and the Desert Campaign in Argentina, which started in the second half of the 19th century and sought to make the presence of native communities invisible.

Since the mid-19th century, the Aysén region has been the focus of numerous scientific and geographical expeditions in the context of nation-state formation. These expeditions contributed to the perception of the area as unpopulated and marginal within the development of the Chilean nation-state. Beginning in the 1830s, an exploratory initiative led by the Chilean navy aimed not only to describe the territory but also to seek access to the interior of Patagonia. This approach was intended to establish sovereignty and to facilitate future use and occupation of the region (Sagredo, 2013).

In 1871, the Chilean Ministry of the Navy sent an expedition commanded by Commander Simpson aboard the corvette Chacabuco to the coast of Aysén. The mission was to search for a passage into the interior region (Simpson, 1875). Among the results of the expedition was a survey of the northern area of Ofqui; however, it could not be crossed (Steffen, 2010). After two unsuccessful attempts, Simpson finally reached the Patagonian plateau and discovered the valley named after him (Steffen, 2010).

In the last decade of the 19th century, following the signing of the 1881 Boundary Treaty between Chile and Argentina, there was an increased need to explore and define the region. This state interest led to the expedition of the German geographer Hans Steffen, hired by the Chilean government, which took place from 1893 to 1899. Steffen's explorations provided detailed descriptions of the Aysén Valley, the Cisnes River, and the Baker Basin, highlighting the presence of scattered settler communities and the environmental impact of early settlement activities. With respect to the local indigenous population, Steffen did not report any indigenous presence in Aysén itself. However, he did mention their presence in nearby areas (Steffen, 2010). Archaeological studies in neighboring Santa Cruz Province (Argentina) confirmed the continued presence of Tehuelche and Mapuche communities in areas surrounding Aysén (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2020). Within Patagonia, particularly the Aysén region, there is little documentary evidence regarding indigenous occupation. This lack of documentation does not imply that indigenous populations were absent; instead, it suggests that their presence may have been overlooked in historical accounts. This issue is connected to the genocide and territorial reduction processes carried out by national governments from the mid-19th century onward, including the misnamed “Pacification of Araucanía” in Chile and the “Desert Campaign” in Argentina. These military campaigns, along with the spread of exotic diseases, alcoholism, and systematic violence, contributed to facilitating the establishment of the livestock industry (Nuevo-Delaunay, 2012).

The expansion of the state profoundly transformed the mobility dynamics of indigenous peoples. Between 1869 and 1870, British naval officer George Ch. Musters traveled 2,750 kilometers from the Strait of Magellan to the Negro River as part of a caravan led by indigenous cacique Casimiro at a time when Patagonia still retained a degree of autonomy (Musters, 1871; Vezub, 2015). The isolation of the surviving communities limited their economic and social opportunities, reinforcing stereotypes about their supposed lack of industriousness and their relationship with alcohol. In 1876-77, Francisco Perito Moreno described that despite the integration of some indigenous people into industrial society, they were often associated with laziness and alcohol consumption. This perception was used to justify their territorial dispossession and their conversion into labor for ranchers (Moreno, 1897). These ideas also extended to the population that migrated to the Chiloé Archipelago in the Pacific Ocean to Aysén, where they were recognized for their role in the colonization and development of the livestock and ranching sectors (Marín, 2014).

The consolidation of the Argentine and Chilean states further restricted indigenous mobility, forcing many communities into marginal areas with fewer resources, making it difficult to sustain their equestrian lifestyle (Velásquez et al., 2005). At the end of the 19th century, the arrival of European sheep breeders and the implementation of state policies accelerated the transformation of the landscape. Throughout the 20th century, the fragmentation of the territory into ranches further solidified this change. Archaeological evidence shows increased remains associated with livestock activities, such as domestic animals, glass tools, and construction materials such as brass (Nuevo-Delaunay, 2012; Belardi et al., 2013). Research within former indigenous reserves provides evidence of their persistence despite significant territorial transformations. Archaeological findings from these sites indicate long-term occupation, as seen in architectural structures and tools (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2020). Resilience strategies included technological adaptations, particularly in tool production and resource management. The adoption of horses and the repurposing of materials, such as glass for scraper production, illustrate the use of new resources while maintaining traditional practices (Casamiquela, 1978; Gusinde, 1982; Martinic and Prieto, 1986; Otero, 1987; Jackson, 1991a,b, 1999; Horwitz et al., 1994; Martinic, 1995; Nuevo-Delaunay, 2007; De Angelis and Mansur, 2010).

Although local conflicts between ranchers and indigenous people in Aysén have not been as widely documented as those in Magallanes and Tierra del Fuego, they likely existed. The scarcity of historical records does not mean that these conflicts were absent; instead, they may have been less visible in official sources. Expanding livestock and consolidating ranches in the region could create tensions with indigenous populations, particularly concerning access to resources and land. While evidence of these conflicts is limited, some incidents, such as the murder of three Kawésqar individuals in 1931 by employees of Estancia Posadas, indicate that such conflicts did indeed occur (Osorio, 2012).

These sites contain lithic, ceramic, and faunal remains, indicating recurrent occupations by indigenous groups before direct contact with colonizers. Among them, Chile Chico 1, located on the coast of Lago General Carrera, contains dispersed surface materials, including lithic debris, ceramic fragments, and grinding stones with starch grains from native plants such as Mutisia spinosa and Solanum tuberosum (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2022). Stratigraphic excavation reveals additional material at depths of up to 10 cm, including lithic flakes, burned and fragmented bones, a carved tool, and a pigment-stained pebble. Radiocarbon dating identifies two occupation phases: 290–440 cal BP and 330–550 cal BP (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2022).

These sites likely represent late precontact indigenous occupations, where the presence of ceramics suggests engagement in regional exchange networks and the continuation of traditional subsistence practices. They illustrate how indigenous communities maintained mobility patterns, resource exploitation strategies, and technological traditions while gradually integrating external materials into daily activities.

A variation on open-air habitation sites, these sites exhibit characteristics similar to those of the previously described category but include historical materials such as glass and metal, indicating repeated visits and reoccupations (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2022). One notable example is Appeleg 1, which is located in the Cisnes River Valley (Velásquez et al., 2007; Méndez and Nuevo-Delaunay, 2019).

Appeleg 1 consists of multiple concentrations of dispersed materials across an extensive 14,500 m² area situated in deflation hollows on dunes (Reyes et al., 2006; Velásquez et al., 2007; Méndez and Nuevo-Delaunay, 2019). The site contains lithic and ceramic artifacts, faunal remains, stone arrangements, combustion areas, and historical materials such as metal and glass (Figure 2). Radiocarbon dating reveals multiple occupation phases, ranging from 330–500 cal BP and 730–800 cal BP (Méndez et al., 2016). Additionally, thermoluminescence dating revealed earlier occupations at 1,290 ± 130 and 740 ± 80 BP (Velásquez et al., 2007; Méndez and Nuevo-Delaunay, 2019).

Historical materials provide further chronological markers. Glass fragments display mold seams and hand-finished lips, suggesting that some bottles date to at least 1880. Additionally, soldered tin cans indicate occupation before 1920, whereas industrially manufactured bottles date to after 1930 (Méndez and Nuevo-Delaunay, 2019). The site has undergone significant post-occupational disturbances, primarily due to intensive sheep ranching since the early 20th century, associated with Estancia Río Cisnes (Velásquez et al., 2007).

Beyond the material evidence, the site contains stone accumulations, which are features often linked to funerary practices such as chenques, a tradition associated with steppe hunter-gatherers over the past millennium. However, no human remains have been identified at this location, suggesting alternative interpretations. Some researchers propose that these mounds served as landscape markers, whereas others suggest the possible presence of “false chenques” (Reyes et al., 2006).

These sites correspond to locations with very low-density material remains or single-use hearth features without subsequent reoccupation. These have been identified across all surveyed valleys in the region. These occupations predate industrial expansion and include radiocarbon-dated contexts ranging from pre-Hispanic to early colonial periods notably exemplified by the site El Deshielo Histórico. The presence of such features suggests indirect contact with external influences, as indicated by shifts in mobility patterns, which were likely influenced by the introduction of horses. However, despite these changes, traditional movement strategies appear to have persisted. These sites represent ephemeral occupations primarily associated with transient activities, with hearths serving as key indicators of short-term habitation.

These sites correspond to ephemeral activities that have been recognized or excavated within the upper layers of the depositional sequences. A notable example is the Cueva de La Vieja in the Ñirehuao Valley, which shows evidence of initial occupation in the region. At the base of its upper stratum, sheep manure remains have been dated to approximately 130 ± 30 years BP, indicating the initial stage of livestock farming at the start of the XX century (Méndez et al., 2018). Another important site is El Chueco 1 cave in the Cisnes River Valley, where the upper stratum containing manure associated with occupation in a ranching context (Méndez et al., 2011). Historical occupations occur in these top stratigraphical units as indicated by recent age archaeological material within these dung strata. A comparative micromorphological analysis carried out in analogous sections of Cueva de la Vieja and Baño Nuevo 1 sites showed that sedimentary changes of the XX century were as profound as those of the Pleistocene-Holocene transition (ca. 11,500 cal BP) indicating major transformations in the environment surrounding these two sites (Ozán et al., 2019). Additionally, the Cueva de las Manos del Río Pedregoso site in the Jeinemeni Valley reveals a distinct layer beneath the upper layer of Hudson River ash. This layer shows traces of manure and evidence of burning events associated exclusively with sheep bone material (Nuevo-Delaunay et al., 2022). These sites likely reflect the presence of industries related to sheep herding, as well as evidence of continuous occupations since ancient times in Patagonia.

These sites correspond to concentrations of multiple hierarchically arranged architectural evidence with different functions in various states of preservation. Among them is the Antigua Estancia site on the Cisnes River, corresponding to one of the earliest settlements associated with ranching development in the area. It features 7 architectural structures, predominantly made of wood and metal sheeting. Additionally, the Estancia Río Cisnes, built in 1932, stands out as the main settlement of this valley (Ivanoff, 1997; Consejo de Monumentos Nacionales, 2009), built by the livestock company Anglo-Chilean Pastoral Co. The foundational house (Figure 3) includes other associated facilities, such as a shearing shed and a school. These ranches likely shifted the location of their facilities throughout its occupational history (Figure 4).

Also included are the facilities of the Aysén Industrial Society (SIA), the current location of the Regional Museum of Aysén in Coyhaique, established in the valley of the Coyhaique River between 1903 and 1906. Its central facilities were used by the company until 1848, highlighting the presence of an industrial-style city where, in addition to the facilities related to ranching, such as shearing sheds, workers' houses, sheep baths, and pens, a warehouse, a bakery, and the doctor's residence were present, along with the police station (Osorio, 2021). Notably, the Foundation House has incorporated building materials over time, predominantly wood and metal but also masonry and concrete, as in the case of the SIA in the 1930s.

Finally, the house of Lucas Bridges in the Chacabuco Valley is noteworthy. It was linked to the Posadas Estate Society of Hobbs and Co. in 1916, which in turn began to be managed by Lucas Bridges in 1921. The house is made of wood with a rectangular floor plan, features a gabled metal roof, an exterior covered corridor, and a tongue-and-groove floor, and was reconstructed in 2018, becoming a museum. Additionally, fragments of chipped glass bottle bottoms were found outside the house in the early 2000s. Six pieces resemble what could be associated with scraping activities, suggesting likely indigenous-type technologies linked to the presence of foreign raw materials such as glass. This evidence illustrates the transformation of traditional lifestyles of local populations in the context of the development of the ranching economy.

These sites are designated for the accommodation of workers engaged in specific seasonal livestock management tasks in remote areas of the ranches. They feature a limited number of structures and offer less functional diversity than head ranches do. Notably, these sites have been identified primarily along the Cisnes River, such as the Puesto Histórico El Deshielo site (Figures 5, 6), and in the Avilés River valley (Patagonia National Park).

These sites are designated for occasional overnight stays in remote areas. They feature simple, expedient structures that require minimal investment and are utilized primarily for tasks related to grazing, particularly around the main ranches and especially in the upper Cisnes River basin (CIS101, CIS095, CIS096) (Figure 7).

These installations represent sites of often spontaneous settlement processes that took place both before and after the implementation of state-led population strategies. Unlike officially planned settlements, these locations were established by nonindigenous independent individuals or groups who occupied and utilized the land on the basis of economic opportunities.

One of the earliest is the settlement of the Richard brothers in Ñirehuao. Their arrival was documented to have occurred in 1898, prior to the border agreement with Argentina. Although no architectural remains have been identified in the studied area and no conclusive evidence confirms this site as their settlement, the findings indicate a historical occupation associated with livestock farming, particularly cattle and horses. This is supported by the presence of animal bone remains, along with various metal artifacts, such as nails, wires, and glass fragments.

Another significant site is Arroyo Cardenio 2 (Figure 8), which is located in the Meseta de Chile Chico, a currently uninhabited area. The site features a wooden structure with a foundation made of flagstone, including a chimney of the same material. The upper part and the roof are covered with zinc sheets, and the structure has windows, although their glass panes are broken. While the ownership of this house remains unclear, local accounts suggest that it may have once belonged to outlaws.

These sites are part of extensively documented historical events. Among them, significant information exists regarding the key locations of the “Guerra de Chile Chico” in 1917 (Niemeyer, 1969; Ivanoff, 1997), which include architectural remains (Figure 9) and burial structures. This site is crucial for understanding the cultural dynamics and early conflicts between estancia and independent settlers and, consequently, the confrontation between the Chilean state and rural colonists.

Another significant site is the Isla de los Muertos, located in the Baker River delta, which served as a cemetery for 34 workers from the Sociedad Explotadora del Baker, a company dedicated to forestry and livestock exploitation in the region. The workers arrived in December 1905 and were supposed to be retrieved by mid-1906. However, this never happened, resulting in the tragic death of 59 laborers, leading to the establishment of the cemetery (Ivanoff, 2000; Mena and Velásquez, 2000; Martinic, 2005; Osorio, 2016; Reyes et al., 2004).

Across much of the region, evidence of historical fire events is embedded within the stratigraphic record, tracing back to the arrival and establishment of settler communities (Martinic, 2005). These fire features, which were often associated with land clearing, provide crucial chronological markers for reconstructing past human–environment interactions. The Simpson River Basin offers well-documented cases, particularly at La Veranada site, where stratigraphic sequences reveal multiple fire episodes linked to occupation and landscape modification (Méndez et al., 2013). These findings highlight the role of fire as both a transformative environmental force and an indicator of historical land-use patterns.

These sites represent large-scale mining settlements associated with the extraction of lead, molybdenum, and silver, particularly around General Carrera Lake. The Silva Mine, identified in 1936, initially operated on an artisanal scale before consolidating with the establishment of Empresa Minera de Aysén (EMA) in 1948. EMA later developed Puerto Cristal, a mining camp that housed 900 inhabitants by 1953 (Pérez-Bustamante et al., 2010). The site retains extensive industrial remains, including processing plants, transportation systems, and worker housing, offering significant archaeological evidence of mid-20th-century extractive industries.

At the same time, significant copper deposits were discovered in Las Chivas near Puerto Eulogio Sánchez town, leading to mining operations starting in 1950 under the Compañía Minera Las Chivas. This discovery was soon followed by the establishment of the La Escondida copper mine in Puerto Guadal, which further intensified industrial activity and migration to the region (Pérez-Bustamante et al., 2010).

Another important settlement, discovered in 1948, was Puerto Eulogio Sánchez (Figure 10), which was developed in connection with the Las Chivas Mine on the northern shore of General Carrera Lake. Mining operations at this site began around 1950, and 150 workers were employed (Pérez-Bustamante et al., 2010). Between 1960 and 1990, the site was operated by three different companies, beginning with Compañía Minera Tamayo S.A. until 1963, followed by Compañía Minera Las Chivas (Lahsen and Oyarzún, 1966). Mining activities ceased in the early 1990s, leaving behind extensive structural remains such as ore-processing facilities, slag heaps, and residential areas.

The decline in mining activity led to the gradual depopulation of these settlements. However, their material remains provide a critical archaeological record of industrial adaptation, technological processes, and the social dynamics of mining labor in Patagonia. The remnants of mining infrastructure, abandoned settlements, and associated artifacts serve as tangible evidence of the region's extractive past, offering valuable insights into the industrial transformations and workforce mobilization that characterized this period (Letelier-Cosmelli et al., 2025).