Why It Happens Here
A hole in the roof, by design.
A skylight is a deliberate opening in the roof with four edges that all have to shed water, and it sits in the sunniest part of the house. The glass and the frame are built for that. The flashing around them is metal and membrane and sealant, and in Kelowna all three get worked hard: hot decks in July, freeze-thaw for weeks in winter, and rain that comes in sideways off the lake.
Step flashings along the sides rely on each piece lapping the next; one lifted by a nail pop or a foot lets water track behind the rest. The head flashing across the top takes the whole slope’s runoff and dams needles against it. Sealant at the frame shrinks and cracks years before the unit wears out. And on older curb-mounted units, the curb itself, a wooden box under the skylight, rots quietly from the top down once the cap sealant goes.
Then there is the one that is not a leak at all. Skylight glass is the coldest surface in a room, so a humid bathroom or kitchen in a cold snap condenses water onto it and runs it down the frame. From inside it looks identical. It is fixed completely differently.